On Our Way
by Alverdine
Summary: ON HIATUS. A long and tiresome journey and a wrongly booked ticket later, Bella Swan finds herself sitting next to renowned actor Edward Cullen. Whether flying coach or first class, karma gets her way. AH/AU
1. Take off

**AN: ****I am new to this fandom, however not to Fanfiction and have been an avid reader and contributor for a couple of years. Conversely, this is my first Twilight story. Have read some fantastic work around here and that got me inspired to dip my brush in the hypothetical paint as well. I hope you will give me a chance and most importantly enjoy reading. This chapter has become a bit oversized, but hope that won't be a bother. Please don't hesitate to leave me a PM or review. I would love to get some feedback. **

**Thank you for reading. **

**Alverdine**

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer.

* * *

_Chapter 1: __Take Off_

_-B-_

There are exactly 3951.2 kilometres between Jacksonville, Florida and Seattle, Washington. 2455.2 miles, 2133.5 nautical miles. Why one would use nautical miles to estimate the distance between two points solely separated by rock solid continent is beyond me, but it still left the fact – no matter what metric system I used- that there was a huge gap between my mother and me. It was not the first time she drove me to the airport with the windows down. I remembered almost as if it were yesterday that she drove me to the airport in Phoenix. I was going to live with my father. And I had lied to myself that it was what I wanted so many times, I almost believed it. Forks had been everything but exciting. It was wet and cold. It was too green, everything seemed to be stuck under a layer of vegetation and for a long time I was afraid I was going to disappear under the moss as well, but it didn't matter. I would survive. In the meantime my mother was happy. She and Phil could finally do what they wanted without having me as their ball and chain.

The moss didn't grow on me. Forks did. No matter how hard I tried to fight it, one morning I simply could not scowl at the rain anymore, nor my outlandish father and even though I never fully stopped feeling different I had found my place of sorts. Since then I had been unable to leave. After I graduated Forks was exchanged for Seattle. It was as if I was physically unable to leave north-western United States. I kept circling the area, like a cat trying to get comfortable on a pillow, yet unable to find that perfect spot. But I knew it was there. Somewhere. Seattle was as good a place as any to try and with my bookstore slowly coming off the ground, inch by inch, I was too busy too really give it much thought.

"You're so quiet," Renee observed and I turned to face her, her hands loosely placed around the wheel as she quietly hummed to the song on the radio. I shrugged as my hair blew in my face like a cobweb.

"I was just thinking," I answered peeling the tangle of tresses off my face, "Dejá vu."

"Me driving you to the airport?"

Renee always called me her open book. I was so easy to read, it was downright annoying at times. Yet, I missed that openness I had with her when I was thousands of miles away. To Charlie, even though he tried, I was an enigma. Then again, Charlie has never been outstandingly apt when it came to human interaction. We are similar that way.

"Yeah, it's just odd. Time passed so quickly and I remember it so well."

"It's been over six years." The concept of time is a completely foreign one to my mother. It's as if she is above it…or beyond it. Or that it simply does not exist. Sometimes I wonder whether she knows what year we live in. Thus the fact that she remembered struck a cord. She looked at me. The laugh lines around her eyes deepened.

"Oh Bella. I do miss you. I thought it would become less, but it hasn't. You are too far away. Why can't you move to Florida. You love the sun. And your bookstore… you could open one in Jacksonville." I smiled. I loved the sun and I loved Renee, yet I couldn't possibly deny that I had found out, I was not a desert plant after all. After two weeks of blue skies and sunrays, I missed the grey skyline of Seattle, I missed the tapping of rain against my window. I missed the smell of it as it hung in the air, or the freshness it left after it passed.

"I like Seattle, mom."

"It's wet and cold. And dark." She sighed, "At least you got a bit of a tan." She pinched my cheek lightly and turned her eyes back on the road resuming her hum, now acclimated to some sort of country song. I stared right in front of me, as the lines of the highway were swiftly swallowed under Renee's red Mustang. I liked Seattle. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. And it wasn't even a lie.

* * *

"_Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to New York. Please remain in your seats with your seat belts fastened as the Captain taxis our airplane to the gate. For those of you who still have a journey ahead of you, have a good trip. For those that arrived at their destination, enjoy your stay. We thank you for travelling with American Airlines."_

I sighed. After two hour and thirty-two minutes I really couldn't thank them for having me. Having spent the entire time next to screaming toddler on one side, his even more irritating mother on the other, and another underage brat kicking my seat behind me, thinking big wide open spaces didn't alleviate the claustrophobia I was feeling.

The second the seat belt sign was turned off I jumped up and tripped my way in the aisle, yanking my backpack out of the overhead compartment and flying to the door. I must have looked like someone with a severe flying anxiety, or simply deranged, but I didn't care. I had to get out into fresh air, or at least an airport terminal that offered space to hide. The sudden thought of my fellow travellers accompanying me all the way to Seattle, tormenting me for another five hours and thirty-four minutes, was too much to bare. Despite my aversion to running - seeing it offered too many opportunities for injury - I jogged to the check-in desk and deposited my passport and ticket on the counter, looking over my shoulder as if I were being chased. They were nowhere in sight.

"I believe there is a slight problem," the lady behind the desk said warily when she ceased the rhythmic hammering on the keyboard of her computer and my head shot back to look at her.

"It appears to be so that your seat is already taken."

I groaned inwardly and furrowed my brow. Problem didn't seem so minor. Only one thing was worse than sitting next to toddler. It was sharing a seat with a toddler.

"What do you mean "taken"? I ordered this ticket months ago."

"The computer clearly shows a double booking and I'm afraid there are no other seats available. The plane is booked. I could book you another flight." She offered her perfectly tweezed eyebrows raised in question. I sighed in defeat.

"When would that be?"

Her fingers rattled over the keys and she pursed her lips.

"Tomorrow at 8 am."

I grunted.

"That's... horrible." I couldn't find a better word. "I ordered this ticket months ago. And the date was picked for a reason. I have to work tomorrow." And I had no desire to spend a night at an airport.

"I'll get my boss." The woman shot me an apologetic look and excused herself. I leaned on the counter, burying my head in my arms and ran my hands through my knotted hair. This journey was going to be hell no matter what. With a grave sigh I looked up when the desk clerk returned with a man, who offered me a gleeful smile.

"Can I help you, Miss?" He asked with overflowing enthusiasm to be of service. He reminded me of a wind-up toy and I silently waited till he ran out of bounce.

"I don't know, can you?" I sighed. The clerk quickly and effectively explained him the problem and I watched in amazement as his smile didn't falter for a second. Was he human?

"I see," he drawled sitting down behind the desk and running his fingers over the keys in a frantic staccato, then letting out a shriek.

"Oh goodness! Would you look at that! Indeed! A double booking!"

I speechlessly blinked at his perkiness.

"Well, we could book you another flight, Miss."

"Yes, and I cannot afford to lose a day," I added quickly.

I waited patiently as he started typing again in an unfathomable speed. I wondered whether he was typing something at all. Or just pushing random keys, to get annoying customers like me off his back.

Suddenly he smacked his lips.

"There is another option, Miss. I see we still have an opening in first class. For an additional fee we can offer you that spot." There it was again the smile.

"Additional fee?" I echoed warily.

"Yes. The ticket costs 942 dollars and 80 cents." He flashed his smile again as my eyes went wide.

"Are you out of your mind?!" I yelled before I could manage to control myself and the man jumped up, his smile faltering for the briefest of moments. I was sure he was going to call security on me and I would be thrown in jail for misconduct. Charlie was going to love that.

"I cannot afford to pay 942 dollars and 80 cents," I repeated in a calmer but shaky voice, "for a mistake _I _didn't make. I'm having a horrible time with you as it is! A child was kicking my seat for two. and. a. half. _hours_." I didn't notice when I started leaning over the counter and into the man's face, now reclining further and further backwards as he tried to keep distance. I was sure I was going to cry from misery soon.

"I paid for a ticket. _My _ticket." _So you can stick your 942 dollars and 80 cents up your ass! _"So I demand a solution that does not rob me of my time, nor of my money," I finished and took a well-needed breath. "I should have just flown with Delta." I mumbled to no one in particular and nearly toppled backwards when the man jumped up and started his rampage on the keyboard again. Before I could blink, there before me was a shiny new ticket.

"We apologize for the inconvenience and wish you a pleasant flight. Thank you for choosing American Airlines," he recited, turned around, and stormed off. My mouth was agape as I tried to make sense of what just happened when the desk clerk shoved the ticked in my hand and called: "Next!"

There on the voucher in bright black letters was printed: New York – Seattle. First Class. Seat 4b. All I could manage was a dazed thank you.

* * *

"Welcome on board, Miss Swan," the stewardess greeted brightly, handing me a flute of what I assumed was champagne and I took it awkwardly as I stammered a reply. She led me through the wide aisle to my seat, "Can I take your hand luggage?"

"Ehm…" I held on to my ragged back pack, still my loyal friend since junior high, with a bit of shame. I felt so out of place. My jeans, t-shirt, and sneaker ensemble was everything but chic, next to the perfectly groomed flight attendants and even more so the rest of the passengers trickling in, "I'll just put it under the seat."

"Very well. Can I interest you in something to read?" There she was again holding a bundle of magazines and newspapers and I hadn't even noticed she had gone.

"Ehm…" I started again, taking the pile from her and sitting down in the chair hesitantly, "Thank you."

This was…awkward. Going from murderous hell to champagne serving crew, was almost too fishy to be true. Trying as well as I could to take it as it came I opened one magazine and started leafing through, scanning the celebrity gossip and interviews without really paying attention. As I flipped the page, my eyes settled on the picture of a man, casually leaning against a wall. Shirt hanging open and revealing a body that had to be either sculpted by Michelangelo or photo- shopped into painful perfection. I cocked my head to the side slightly to marvel at him from a somewhat different angle. Edward Cullen. From all the drool that pooled at his feet from the seas of his admirers, I was surprised he didn't get sued for dehydration. But goodness, as I let my eyes drift over his features, the exquisite shape of his face, the piercing green eyes, messy bronze locks falling over his forehead, and the lean muscles of his body, I could not blame them one bit.

"_The much discussed project of director Ewan Laughlin starring Edward Cullen as the conflicted Liam Adair and Tanya Denali as the beautiful Rose, did not disappoint. Laughlin's perfectionism is nothing if not matched by Cullen's devotion. Once again the young actor proves to be a chameleon in his own right as he moulds seamlessly in the raw yet soulful Irishman. The chemistry shared with the enchanting Tanya Denali is sizzling off the screen despite (or perhaps thanks to) Laughlin's love for subtle facets. "Flightless Bird" is a stunning epic set against the grim reality of the social inequality between the Irish and the English still so very much alive in the 19__th__ century. It is a tale of bitterness, perseverance, and an impossible love, that is unlikely to be forgotten soon." _I read the review and let my eyes drift back to the picture letting out a sigh.

"Well… that's embarrassing." I looked up in the direction of the male voice that was responsible for the comment and nearly died. Nearly. Instead I shrieked and flung my glass of champagne right in the lap of the owner. I was clearly hallucinating. Because the man sitting next to me, could not possibly be… I closed my eyes and opened them again. But he was still there a slightly uncomfortable look on his beautiful face as he retrieved my glass from his lap and inspected the damage to his trousers.

"This is a new reaction," he mumbled all the while I gaped at him and glanced at the magazine checking whether he had jumped out of it. But Edward Cullen was still gazing at me from the page, his eyes hypnotising and in addition the exact -slightly displeased- replica (with perhaps a bit more facial hair, and clothes) was undeniably sitting in the chair next to me.

"I'm _so _sorry!" I finally managed to croak out when I remembered how to speak. Before I could thoroughly think it through I grabbed a napkin from my backpack and dove to dab his pants. He was not the only one who jumped up as my hand came into contact with his crotch.

"I got it," he said louder than I had heard him speak so far. For a moment he cast me an exasperated look and I almost felt the need to ensure him I was not trying to feel him up. He held up his hand as a stop sign and snatched the napkin from my hand, still hovering over him. I wasn't sure whether he was mad or embarrassed. I was too busy trying to sink through my chair in shame.

"I'm sorry!" I adamantly repeated retrieving my limbs as far as possible from the general area. This nightmare of a journey could get worse after all.

He let out a deep sigh for a moment leaning in his chair and closing his eyes as if trying to collect his thoughts.

"I really am-" I started again meekly, daring to peek in his direction.

"-all over the place," he finished the sentence for me and smirked as my cheeks heated up.

"Is everything alright here?" The stewardess came flying to our seats like a mother hen in six inch heels. She hovered over him and her mouth formed a silent "oh" as she saw what I had inflicted on him.

"I have had a bit of an accident," Edward explained and I had to give him credit for not pointing the finger at me, "Is there any chance I could change? I know the plane is about to taxi."

"Of course, Mr. Cullen," the blonde flashed him a smile, "No problem at all. Do you want me to call someone at the airport to bring you some fresh clothes?" I gaped at her. Was she willing to delay the plane to get a passenger fresh clothes? First class was indeed something else.

"That won't be necessary," he smiled and grabbed his bag from the floor before getting up. He was tall. Weren't movie stars supposed to be short? I swallowed. Like Tom Cruise?

"The lady needs a new glass of champagne," he said glancing at me and I forcefully shook my head. I was never going to lay eyes on champagne in my life again.

"Is there any way I could get another seat?" I begged the stewardess after he had gone, "It doesn't matter where. The luggage compartment is more than fine."

The woman looked at me as if I was out of my mind for more than one reason and struggled to keep her smile on.

"Is something not to your satisfaction?"

Let's see, I thought. I was sitting next to a man I had marvelled at in a magazine and which he knew. And not only had I throws my drink in his lap, I also had to feel him up.

"No, just…peachy." I sighed, burying my head in my hands and letting out a grown. All I could think about was how slow those 5 hours and 34 embarrassing minutes were going to pass.

"It's not _that _tragic." I jumped up again at his voice, warm and soft, as he sat down next to me again and stretched his long legs, now clad in loose fitting sweats, "I wish I could say it happens all the time, but this is definitely new." He smirked and proffered his hand, "Edward Cullen."

Of all the redundant information in the world…

"Bella Swan," I answered automatically and lay my shaking hand in his. His skin was cool, his grip steadfast as he gave my trembling limb a light squeeze before letting go. I let my hair down from behind my ear, forming an emergency hideout that had been in use since my childhood days and pretended to read the newspaper in my lap. I just had to keep this up for the following 5 and a half hours. Just… sit still and stare at the paper, though he might notice that I never turned a page.

"Are you going to do that the whole flight?" What was it about his voice that had me on edge like some neurotic wreck.

"Huh?" I asked throwing a quick glance his way.

"Hide behind your curtain?" he specified, his green eyes resting on me. Having lived in Forks where everything was a shade of green whether it was supposed to be or not, I still found that the burning emerald green of his eyes was somewhat surreal.

"I'm not—I'm just—I don't know…" I then answered and could hit myself for the dense reply that left my mouth before my brain could stop it. He had to think that I was mentally impaired. Spastic as I was acting.

"Relax, Bella, you're not being graded," he laughed. I felt as if I already had been graded. Weight, measured, and found too light. I had gotten a big stinky F, for the first time in my life. F for…fidgeting ….freak.

"What are you thinking about?" Again I gazed up at him. The quizzical look on my face probably gave him the idea that I didn't understand his words. But it was something entirely different that was beyond my comprehension. Why was he talking to me?

"About my disastrous journey today," I then answered. It wasn't far off. He let out a deep sigh and smiled as if he shared my day. He did and I was at fault.

"So where are you coming from?"

"Jacksonville." I hesitated biting my lip before I threw his question back, "You?"

"London," he smiled as if rewarding me for the progress in our, dared I say, conversation.

"That's…far," I concluded. Eloquent, Bella. I sighed.

"It is." He sighed and I only then noticed the dark circles under his beautiful eyes, and I was pretty sure the stubbles on his chin were not a fashion statement. He looked exhausted.

"You could sleep on the plane, though," I offered. Maybe he would so I wouldn't be forced to keep talking to him and my heart could stop trying to break through my ribcage.

"I can't," he answered studying my face.

"You can't?"

"No, I don't sleep on airplanes, or trains, or cars… Whichever."

"Never?"

"Never." He smiled, briefly parting his lips as if wanting to say something more but then shook his head lightly pressing them together again.

"What?" I asked feeling uneasy. My heart bounced with every word that left his mouth, but as he seemed to swallow them back my stomach knotted.

"You don't have to talk to me, Bella, if you don't want to. It's not my mission to make you uncomfortable. You can sleep or read. You can pretend I'm not here. Just say the word and I will be quiet." For a moment I debated his offer. It seemed appealing and I gazed outside through the airplane window as we taxied towards our runway. The silence however soon proved even more unbearable than his voice prodding my ears.

"So what do you do then? To function I mean? A person can go only so long without sleep." I cut through the silence.

"Coffee," he smirked.

"Coffee."

"Lots and lots of coffee." I managed to pull up the corner of my mouth in a half hearted smile and I hoped I didn't look like I was in pain instead. The Charlie in me was incapacitating. Why couldn't I just talk to him like I would to any other person? He was just a man. A gorgeous man even though looking a bit shaggy at the moment and for some reason he was set on finding something to talk about with me. I watched as his left hand curled around the arm rest in a firm grip, when the plane came to a halt in its ready- for- take- off position. And as his whole body seemed to tense I couldn't help but wonder: Was he afraid of flying?

I didn't dare to ask him, so I decided to talk to him instead, since that was what he seemed to be after. Something to talk about as a distraction. It was the least I could do. After the way I behaved I should be juggling on a unicycle while balancing a duck on my head and it still would be not enough to erase my past spasm of clumsiness. Both physical and verbal.

"So what kind of coffee do you like?" I asked at a loss of a better question.

"The caffeinated kind," he replied.

"That's a good kind," I mumbled and against all odds caused him to laugh. A pleasant laugh. Deep and smouldering. One that infected me with a chuckle as well.

"I usually don't have such a trouble reading people. Your mind though, Bella, is like a pesky jar lid."

"I'm sorry?" I raised my eyebrows, "Everyone always says I'm like an open book…"

"Really?" he seemed genuinely surprised and I nodded.

"Need to work on my reading skills then." The plane accelerated and he tensed even more, the tendons in his hand showing from the force he put into his clutch on the armrest.

"Does that help?" I asked quietly glancing at his hand and then back at his face. He looked at me with smiling eyes for a moment.

"Not at all." He shook his head.

"Then why do you do it?"

"Because screaming is so theatrical."

"Ah," I looked out of the window as the ground beneath us and everything on it was reduced to miniature size till it couldn't be distinguished anymore at all, and we dove into a cloud bed.

"Ladies and gentlemen," one of the stewardesses started, "Welcome aboard American Airlines Flight 4589 to Seattle. In order to ensure your safety we will guide you through some safety procedures." She retrieved a belt and held it in the air, "To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab in the buckle and pull tight." She followed her own instructions and I wondered how in the world she could make something so stupid looks almost enviably refined.

"It works like every other seat belt." Edward's murmur compelled me to look at him. "And if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised."

I watched him in amusement and in pity, because I was sure he was talking to no one in particular, just fighting the nerves.

As the stewardess continued her demonstration, I lifted my hand and took a deep breath before placing it over his as if I was afraid the touch would sting me. He looked at me, and I was at a loss of what to say. As if my hand on his could eradicate his fear that we were going to crash, burn and die. Most likely, with my hand on his, the chances of doing so were considerably higher. I am accident prone.

He smiled turning his hand and curling his fingers around mine. A crimson heated up my cheeks again and I turned my gaze outside again to hide it. It didn't sting. It felt nice. So nice in fact that my heart skipped a beat when his thumb brushed over my knuckles.

For a while that is how we sat, in silence listening how to inflate a life vest with half an ear, while our hands lay between us, intertwined. It was Edward who broke the silence. His stance less rigid it seemed when we reached cruising altitude, yet his hand remained firmly around mine and I didn't mind. I was more than content.

"You were in Jacksonville for business or pleasure?"

"I was visiting my mother," I answered.

"And that falls to which category?"

I chuckled.

"Pleasure, I suppose."

"Hit the beach?"

"Of course." I bobbed my head.

"Didn't really get a tan, though," he observed.

I furrowed my eyebrows at him and pouted, not caring about how childish I looked. I was sensitive about my skin. It could be quite satisfactory, blemish free and smooth as it was. The only downside was that it had never known anything beyond different shades of white. And after two weeks in Florida I could definitely see a change. However slight.

"As if you can brag about a russet complexion," I retorted and he raised an amused eyebrow at my hostility.

"Well I was in London. Global warming is not quite _that_ established."

I fought the urge to stick out my tongue at him and stared in front of me instead.

"I apologise. You look very beautiful," there was a smile in his words and I shot him a glare. Overzealous compliments like that, however jokingly meant always worked on my nerves. Especially coming from someone like him. It was the sun complementing a fire fly for its brightness. And the firefly was having severe heart arrhythmia to begin with from the sheer fact that the sun was speaking to it.

"I really cannot help it. I'm curious what is going on in that head of yours." My inner rant was cut short as he addressed me. Again.

"Shrimp." I said blankly staring at the plate of hors d'oeuvres the stewardess was holding in her hands.

"Shrimp?" he echoed in puzzlement, yet followed my gaze.

"Canapé?" The woman flashed her pearly whites, her eyes settled on Edward. I was not surprised I was being ignored. Fire fly.

"No, thank you," Edward replied with a polite smile and turned to look at me again as I took one little shrimpy bite off the plate and put it in my mouth.

"What?" I muttered, feeling perturbed under his gaze, "You don't eat on planes either?"

"That depends on the food," he quipped.

"Expected caviar, huh?" I only half joked. What did one like himself eat if canapés that looked too good to eat were not good enough plane food?

"I'm dying for pancakes actually."

"Pancakes?" It was my turn to be puzzled.

He hummed, "With maple syrup."

"Right." Once again I felt like a fool even more aware of his hand around mine.

"Do you live in Seattle, Bella?" he asked. He sure liked questionnaires.

"I do." Edward nodded.

"Do you?" Probably a stupid question. Where was it that movie stars resided? Los Angeles?"

"Not really." That was a strange reply. How could one "not really" live somewhere? Either they did, or they didn't.

"So where _do_ you really live?"

"Nowhere," he shrugged. An even stranger reply. "Hotels mostly. I don't keep an apartment or anything of sorts. But I suppose Seattle is more home than any other place."

I eyed him struck by curiosity. Till now it had been nothing like I had expected to. He was nothing like I had expected. Not that I had expected much. What were the odds to end up next to him like that? So why waste time expecting? But he was not how I would imagine a person of his calibre to be. He was strangely down to earth and for someone who crossed the Atlantic without sleeping a wink, very nice. And even though I knew in essence that he kept talking to me for the sake of a distraction from his fear of flying, it felt like he was truly interested in what I had to say.

"Do you have family there?" I wondered.

"Yes. My parents and my siblings."

"That's nice."

"It is. Haven't seen them in months."

"Downside of your career choice?"

"One of the many."

"Well there are upsides as well, I'm sure." I tried to put it in perspective, "Or you wouldn't be doing it. I mean…the pay check?"

"The pay check isn't bad," he smirked.

"And to be _seen._" It had to be nice to be seen. If one was comfortable with it. He seemed to be. I preferred to just… blend in. It was so much easier. Not that a person like Edward could blend in. It was becoming harder and harder to keep my eyes off of him. The refined bone structure of his face, his mesmerizing eyes decked with long eyelashes.

"That's debatable. Most of the time it feels like being a zoo monkey. People keep tapping on the dividing glass and snapping pictures. And screaming. Lots of screaming. I could do without the screaming." He smirked at me and I remembered the shriek that was my greeting to him. I blushed.

"I did catch you of guard," he chuckled, "so really, the fault is inherently mine."

And then the gallantry. I was still confused whether it was an act or it was genuine. Sometimes it felt like he taunted me. And he probably was. Oh what did it matter? It was not like I was ever going to see him again after this glitch in reality. As if relaxing at the thought I stifled a yawn with my free hand. His eyes squinted slightly as he fought a smile.

"You should sleep."

"I'm fine," I replied, fighting the suddenly heavy eyelids. These chairs were too comfortable. The soft cushions were drawing me in and the soft monotonous buzzing of the engines lulled me into drowsiness.

"I won't break down in hysterics, I promise," he offered, disentangling our hands to emphasise his point. I looked at my hand, strangely naked without his around it and dropped it in my lap purposelessly. Then with a sigh I leaned back. I was just going to close my eyes for a second.

* * *

I awoke from the sunny beach of Florida. My mother was suddenly gone and I took in my surroundings peeking through my eyelashes. The slumber had still not let me go entirely and I didn't deem it necessary to open my eyes completely. I was mystified to find myself under a blanket. Edward was sitting next to me, his ears plugged by earphones as he was reading some book, a cup balancing on his knee - saucer and all. He seemed to notice that I was awake and turned to face me with a smile while pulling the plugs from his ears.

"Sleep well?" he asked. I hid my yawn in the blanket and nodded.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Little over two hours."

I shot up and rubbed my face.

"I'm sorry. I just…closed my eyes."

"Don't apologise, Bella." He laughed, "Besides your mind is more insightful when you sleep. You are quite…vocal when you dream."

I stared at him still drunk with sleep before my face lit up in belated embracement. I hid my face in my hands slumming back in the seat. Of all the things I did, I had to talk in my sleep.

"No need to be embarrassed. It's quite adorable."

_Adorable. _There was a word. I tried to sink deeper in the seat, when it shot backwards and I yelped as it propelled me with it. My limbs splayed in shock and I could hear the clattering of tableware. I probably had stained his pants yet _again. _My handicap was worse than ever. I groaned.

"Christ…Ouch…what…seriously. Sorry…" I struggled to get myself out of the seat and grabbed Edward's proffered hand. He pulled me up and pressed the button that tamed the chair.

"I'm so so-" I started but noticed that his left hand was firmly gripping the cup and saucer and they were still on his knee however slightly off balance. His pants were untainted.

"Good reflexes," I then mumbled followed by my gratitude as he let go of my hand again.

He grinned.

"It seems I need them around you."

"I bring bad luck," I sighed, "everything I touch or do ends up catastrophic. I'm surprised I'm still alive. My number has been up a couple of times already. You are probably better off on a different plane. We will most likely crash." I hit my head. Stupid, stupid, Bella! "I didn't mean it like that. I just—I'm sorry. We won't crash. The engines are purring like kittens and everything is going to be okay. I'm sorry for being an idiot."

He was staring at me with raised eyebrows. I didn't see distress in his eyes. Not more than there had already been. Surprise was the dominating factor, before he started laughing.

"Oh Bella, you are something else." I was not sure that was meant as a compliment. Maybe his laugh was neurotic.

"I'll just be quiet." I mumbled, "And still. Maybe if I don't move you will survive."

"Don't be ridiculous, Bella. And don't worry. Odd as it may sound I'm quite enjoying this flight." He winked, picking up his reader again.

"What are you reading?"

"Script."

My interest was peaked. Owning a bookshop I was surrounded by books and books were my life, but a script, a genuine script, that I had never laid my eyes on.

"Can I see?"

"Of course." He handed it to me and I turned the flap so I could read the title. _Northanger Abbey. _I gaped at him.

"I _love _Jane Austen," I said, "This is one of my favourites."

"One of mine as well," he agreed, "It contains one of the earliest occurrences of the word "baseball" in print. Deserves some acknowledgement." I chuckled leafing through the reader, letting my fingers run over the lines and the many notes scribbled in the margins.

"Which character will you be playing?" I asked.

"Henry." Of course. Why would he settle for anything less than the male lead.

"Is that why you were in London?"

"Not this time." He smiled and I felt like I prodded too much, "Mostly promotion for _"Flightless Bird"_. This I have been doing on the side, when I could find a patch of free time. It's not a feature film. Just a BBC series."

I cocked an eyebrow. _Just_ a BBC series. And I couldn't even roll my eyes, because he didn't sound arrogant.

"I love BBC series," I then said, "Some things just should be left to the Britons."

"Hear, hear," he chuckled. I handed him back the script and we fell into a comfortable silence till I heard him put away the reader with a sigh and his gaze fix on me. It would come any second now. A question.

"So what is it you do in Seattle, Bella Swan?" I suppressed a smirk.

"I own a bookshop," I answered.

"Really! That would be something for you," he then mulled out loud, "What kind of bookstore? Do I know it?"

I studied his face, searching for any clues that he wasn't seriously interested and why would he be? But I came up short.

"It's not Borders. Just a little bookshop. I'm sure you have never heard of it. It's still sort of new." I stared through the little window over the endless clouds.

"I'll just be quiet," he mumbled. My head shot around in question. But he had plugged his ears already and was reading the script again. I bit my lip. Did I say something to upset him? I went over my words, but couldn't come across anything. I debated whether I should say something but he looked busy and when the food arrived we ate in silence. His eyes never leaving the script before him, mine set on my plate where I sat prodding my dinner. What had I done? One moment he was chatting my ear off, the next not even casting a glance in my general direction. I let out a deep sigh and pulled my ragged copy of "Little Women" from my backpack.

"_He looked like an Italian, was dressed like an Englishman, and had the independent air of an American--a combination which caused sundry pairs of feminine eyes to look approvingly after him, and sundry dandies in black velvet suits, with rose-colored neckties, buff gloves, and orange flowers in their buttonholes, to shrug their shoulders, and then envy him his inches."_ Oh great. As if I could concentrate on reading _this_ while _he _was sitting next to me. I closed the paperback with a flop and dropped it on top of the table glancing at Edward Cullen, still successfully ignoring me. What was his problem?

The minutes crawled by and turned into hours, all the while I was staring at him. I willed him to look at me and by the way he clenched his jaw it seemed he was willing himself not to. For a moment he even plucked at his hair as if trying to get the insufficient length of his bronze locks to shield his face from my stare. Was I that horrible? And how did I turn so horrible in matter of seconds? Finally I gave up. I sighed and steered my gaze away, directing it on the pile of papers. Then the second wind came.

"Are you going to shun me for the rest of the trip?" I asked crossing my arms in front of my chest. He looked up and stared before him for a moment with raised eyebrows before slowly turning to face me.

"I was under the impression you were not in the mood to talk."

"I never said that!"

"You didn't have to."

"Oh…says the guy who can't _read _me." I used air quotes to emphasize my point.

"Are we fighting?" he asked, an amused spark suddenly nestling in his eyes.

"Do you get a kick out of that?"

He smirked a crooked smirk that made my heart beat faster and crossed his arms behind his head.

"I never had a domestic with a practical stranger before."

"This is not a domestic. This is me being displeased with the situation," I hissed trying to ignore the brilliance of his smile when he flashed his teeth.

"Well let me rectify the situation then," he offered.

"Not sure I want to," I huffed. From the corner of my eyes I saw that he rolled his.

This was strangely feeling like a couples fight, even though I hadn't been in many couples. Even more importantly, even though we were nowhere near a couple.

"What are you listening to?" I then asked still pouting to break the cycle.

He pulled one of the earphones from his ears and handed it to me. I leaned in and prodded it in mine. Soft piano tunes drifted in my ear and I raised my eyebrows in surprise and recognition.

"Clair de Lune?" I wondered out loud.

He nodded.

"It's beautiful." I handed him back the earplug.

"It is. I never tire of it."

I studied him again for the millionth time during the journey, trying to make sense of him. I was passed him sitting next to me. Now I was just trying to put the puzzle that was Edward Cullen together. The way he looked, beautiful but unconventional. He had this air about him. The way he carried himself; graceful for lack of better word; the way he spoke, his voice almost hypnotic, the choice of his words articulate. It was as if he belonged in a different time. I smirked. He would make a perfect Henry.

"What?" he asked with a crooked smirk, his green orbs studying my face.

I shook my head.

"Nothing."

"_Ladies and gentlemen, shortly we will start our descend to Seattle international airport. Please fasten your seatbelts and put the tables in upright position. Make sure your luggage is in the overhead compartment or safely tucked under your seat. The lights will be dimmed for your comfort."_

I watched Edward's jaw clench as he seemed to remember where he was and snatched the papers from the table stuffing them in his bag and kicking it under the seat. Maybe he was not perfect descendant of Roman God after all, but I was glad that he was at least that bit human.

"We won't die, Edward," I said, "not even if a bird is sucked in the engine. It takes a whole swarm to take this baby down." He squinted his green eyes at me, and I bit my lip as to not laugh. He deserved a bit of payback.

"I'm sorry," I then said in remorseful tone and grabbed his hand, patting it with my other. The lights dimmed and I heard him sigh. He swatted my right hand away lightly and laced the fingers of our adjoining hands. Once again the feel of his skin on mine was exquisite.

"You know the airplane is the safest way to travel. It's statistically proven."

"Well I have two remarks on that," he started. I could not distinguish the features of his face in the dark, but his voice was tense, "First of all there are lies, big lies, and _then _there are statistics. Only one thing is worse and that's Chinese statistics. Secondly, seeing that a phobia is an irrational fear I do not have to justify me freaking out even _if_ provided evidence that proves the contrary of my worries to be true," he ranted in a raised whisper.

"Edw-"

"Shhhh. Let me go in peace."

I fought my laughter. Edward Cullen, drama queen extraordinaire. I was sure he was overacting. The plane shook lightly and he nearly crushed my fingers. I opened my mouth in a silent cry at the force he inflicted on my limb.

"Just a little turbulence," I said, "Could you perhaps… not squeeze so tight?"

He pulled back his hand entirely.

"I'm sorry. I just _hate_ landings." The agony in his voice was almost tangible. "How I wish I were back in Thailand and receiving scalp massage," he muttered with a sigh and I could see him rub his face in the faint light, his hand lingering as he pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. I hoped he wouldn't get an aneurysm.

I bit my lip and extended my arm hesitating when it reached over his shoulder. He was going to think I was crazy. Totally crazy. _I _thought I was totally crazy and with that thought I delved my fingers in his locks, marvelling at how soft his hair was against my skin. For a moment he flinched and I was about to pull my hand away and hide under my seat, but he seemed to relax slightly into my palm as I scraped my fingers over his scalp, lightly plucking the hair in his nape.

"God, you're fantastic," he sighed and my stomach jumped at the words carried on his breath. I was glad it was dark. My face was probably bright red. I ordered myself to get a grip, it wasn't as if I was performing sexual favours. I was just…plucking at his hair. All very PG rated. I fisted a handful of hair pulling lightly before letting go and burying my fingers in it again. It slid through my fingers like silk. The plane touched the ground with a slight bump and came to a rapid halt.

As the stewardess announced our destination and thanked us for choosing her airline, I smoothed out the mess I had made, resting my hand in his neck for a moment, reluctant to stop. The lights flickered on and his eyes met mine. I retrieved my hand with the speed of lightning, glancing away.

"Let me buy you dinner," he said leaning in, "To thank you for your… services." The corner of his mouth pulled up slightly.

"I think you should buy the pilot dinner instead," I replied as my heart thudded in my chest. It was an automatic reaction. For some reason I was terrified of his presence, of his request and pushed myself in the farthest corner of my seat.

He sighed, creating some distance, then dug something out of his bag. It was a pen and a little piece of paper. He scribbled down something before handing it to me. I took it hesitantly and looked at the Starbucks receipt in puzzlement. There was a number on the back.

"If you change your mind, I will be in Seattle for a little while."

I nodded dumbly. My mind blank. My voice gone.

"It was lovely to make your acquaintance, Bella Swan," he smirked getting up, "Dare I say, you are a life saver. Next time I am forced to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, I'll be thinking of you."

I blinked, biting my lip. Trying to fathom it all. Part of me wanting to say 'yes'. To call him before he was out of sight. The other one, the sensible one knew it was just a stupid idea. It could and would never work. I swallowed.

"Thanks."

Edward swung his bag over his shoulder. For a moment I thought he was going to say something more, but changed his mind. With a little wave he made his way through the passageway, briefly stopping next to the flight attendant who asked him for an autograph giggling when he took her notepad and pen from her. As he complied without any thought, he turned his head slightly and as his hand swiftly scribbled a short message and his name, his blazing jade eyes lingered on me a final time before he made his exit.

So that was that. With a sigh I got up as well, taking my backpack. The little piece of paper nearly burnt a hole in my hand and I swiftly stuffed it in my bag before actual burn marks would appear. Back to reality. I had to go pick up my cat.

* * *


	2. Full House

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AN: I would like to thank all of you who took the time to read the previous chapter and left me comments! It is very much appreciated! :) **Without further ado, chapter two…and that rhymed ladies and gents. It's 3.42 am. I ought to go to bed. Fatigue is making me do strange things. **

**Disclaimer:** No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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_Chapter 2__: Full House_

_-E-_

I glanced at the clock. 7 am. The bed was comfortable. The mattress not too soft and not too hard, the pillows just the right size, fluffy but firm. The room was not too cold and not too warm. On top of all that it was blissfully quiet. And yet, I found myself unable to sleep. I had awoken over an hour ago from a restive slumber. For a moment I wasn't even sure I had fallen asleep in the first place. It were the red digits of the alarm clock that witnessed the contrary. I had somehow blanked out for _four_ whole hours. I turned on my other side and sighed, squinting my eyes shut tighter. _Just sleep_! It wasn't long before my arm decided to do just that and I rolled on my back, opening my eyes in exasperation and staring at the ceiling. Why couldn't I just sleep in like any normal person on a Saturday? Scratch that. Why couldn't I sleep? Period.

There was of course the possibility that I could be jetlagged. Having visited four continents in two weeks, and crossed God knows how many time zones it was probably not so odd. That still left the fact that tired as I felt, I would gladly slip into a coma and yet all that I could manage was a state that could barely be called sleep. My biological clock seemed unable to tell which end was up anymore. Even better, it seemed to have ceased existing altogether. I contemplated staying awake for the rest of my life. It would surely make things more productive, seeing a human roughly sleeps through a third of his life. Then again, seeing that I was close to clawing the walls now, a whole lifetime of insomnia lost its charm as quickly as it had gained it.

It didn't help that _she _was on my mind - I sighed- and in my hair. The sensation of her hands plucking at my hair, her fingers dragging over my scalp, grazing my neck had nearly driven me in a state of ecstasy. One that had not entirely ceased even though it had been hours. If this tingling on and inside my head wasn't going to stop soon I was going to have shave it. On a more rational note: Perhaps, I had just contracted a scalp disease.

Perhaps, not. My head was not the only piece of me that felt off. I lifted up my right hand and studied it. It looked like any other day: too pale, too slender, holding five long fingers. If there was one thing years of playing the piano had not gotten me, it was masculine hands. I flexed it. It was steady - a more favourable consequence - and yet it felt like it was anything but. Just like my scalp it felt different. As if it not entirely belonged to me anymore. It was her doing. _Bella. _She had driven my nerve endings into hysterics with one simple touch.

For a moment I had deemed her like all the others. A rash conclusion in hindsight, yet what was I supposed to think when I sat down next to a woman staring at my portrait in a magazine as if I were something edible? I am not unfortunate looking. I have never had a puberescent crisis about my appearance. Yet, what others called self-confidence, I called indifference. Now too, others seemed to make a bigger fuss out of it than I would ever think it was worth fussing over. My face was just a face. It didn't glow in the dark or sparkle in the sun as if it was embedded with diamonds. Just a face. And my body was like that of a million others. I ruffled my hair before letting my hand drop on the covers with a dull sound and glanced at the clock. 7.13 am. I would not win this.

With a sigh I threw the covers off of myself and sat up, slinging my legs over the edge of my bed. My elbows found their way to my knees and I laid my head in my hands. It felt too heavy for my body. I glanced up and looked around my old room. It hadn't changed one bit since I had moved out. The wall covering bookcase was still full of music, one shelve reserved for my track running winnings. It all felt like so long ago and it was. It had been 5 years since I was permanently occupying this room.

The desk was as ever neatly organised; everything stocked in neat piles, as were my algebra and trigonometry books. Surely my mothers doing, because I remembered clearly dumping them in the bin after my last exam. The central piece of furniture in the room was a chaise. Above a cabinet that was on the verge of bursting at the seams from the amount of DVDs hung, a flat screen. The heavy curtains covering the vast windows in the east wall were still the same chocolate brown colour, a warm contrast against the off-white of the walls. It reminded me of hereyes, dark and smouldering, embedded in her fair face, bittersweet like dark chocolate, my favourite. I shook my head. What had gotten into me? Why couldn't I simply get past her like I got past crowds on a daily basis? She was nothing to me. A complete stranger. Even more so, because unlike most people, who were –as Bella had called herself- an open book for me to read, she had kept hidden from me like some diary. I was giving myself a headache. _She _was giving me a headache. I groaned and was about to lift myself off the bed when the door flung open and a whirlwind in silk pyjamas flew at me, knocking me back in the mattress and simultaneously the air out of my lungs.

"I _knew_ you were awake!" the girl squealed as I tried to regain equanimity with her knee pressing in my stomach. The supernatural force that was my sister despite her inadequate length was incapacitating.

"Ow, Alice!" I managed rolling her off me with a huff. She fell on her side, her arm ready to catch her head, legs curled elegantly, as if she had been laying there all the while, posing for a portrait. I rubbed the sore spot on my abdomen. That was going to bruise.

"Pish-posh. Now where are my presents, tiger?" she sang her blues sparkling like those of a kid on Christmas morning. Her voice sounded like a little silver wind chime. I raised my eyebrows in amusement, studying the soft features of her face. Despite her nineteen years she still looked like she belonged in Junior High. It was then that I noticed. Her hair.

"What did you do to your hair?" I asked fingering the spiky wisps sticking out in every direction. Last time I had seen her it had reached well below her shoulders in sleek black tresses. I could only imagine Esme's pained expression.

"I cut it," she grinned, "Do you like it?"

"Did mom have a heart attack?" I asked only half kidding.

"No, she thinks it's cute."

"Then I suppose it's all right," I smirked

"You are so changing the subject, mister." She held up her hand, "Present me… my pressie!"

"You don't _demand_ presents. That's not how it works--" I lectured.

"I want my pressie!" She pouted before I could continue. Fine. She wanted presents, she would get presents. I got up and picked up one of my bags. After a short search I flung her my present. Alice caught it effortlessly without moving from her position on the bed and opened her palm. I watched her in amused anticipation and suppressed a chuckle as her nose scrunched up.

"What _is _this?" she asked referring to the object in her hand.

" I'm glad you ask. That's what the French call _un porte-clef._"

"You got me a _key-chain_?!" she roared jumping up on the bed with a murderous expression that formed such a contrast to her fairy-like features.

"It has a little Eiffel-tower on it and everything!" I defended it unable to hide my amusement as she flung one of the pillows at my head. I ducked just in time and it ended up on top of the dresser.

"A key-chain, Edward! I dreamt you were going to get me that watch! That beautiful Gucci watch!" Another pillow flew my way, this time I caught it depositing it on the chaise. She had been sending me hints about that piece of jewellery for months now. And if there was one thing Alice was not, it was subtle. I chuckled as her face fell completely and she let herself plop down on the bed again, the miniature Eiffel-tower still clasped in her hand, head hanging.

I supposed I had tortured her enough. Knowing Alice, she would use that key-chain to key my car if I kept it up much longer. She was far too fixated on her own misery to notice me digging out a second object from my bag, a black box displaying the four letters that she craved so much. I sat down on the edge of the bed, the item in my lap.

"I missed your birthday this year," I stated the fact. The folly surrounding the promotion of the film had prohibited me from coming to see her. Not that it was the first birthday I missed and birthdays were not my only specialty. I pretty much became a master in finding myself across the universe whenever a holiday approached.

"I haven't had my party yet." She tried to sound disinterested, but I smiled at the eagerness to tell me what she had planned that seeped through her words.

"Oh really…" I fuelled her keenness with little ease tracing the outline of the box.

"Really! I got the VIP lounge in club "Inferno"."

"How exactly?" I wondered. Places like "Inferno" did not hand out their VIP lounge to ditsy teenagers.

"I might have told them you were coming…" she ended on a high note and I could _feel_ her Cheshire cat-resembling grin against my back. I sighed. Clubs were not my scene. I avoided them as much as I could and spared myself the beer- throwing and grinding against each other on a ear shattering beat that reverberated in one's mind days after the experience. The fact that I was delivered to one like some ice sculpture did nothing to thaw my already freezing mood.

"And remember you missed my birthday, Edward, and that made me very _very _sad." I grinded my teeth. If she played dirty, I could too.

"Very well…" I said glancing her way. Her lips were shaped in a silent "oh". She had not thought I was going to give up this easily and she surely could not be that naïve.

"Really?" she asked warily, her blue eyes searching my green ones for the snag in this all. She needn't search. I was glad to provide it for her free of charge.

"Really. I'll just bring this back." I flashed the box holding her present, "we don't want you to get _spoiled,_ do we now?"

She gasped, arms stretched forward and fingers splayed as she reached for it and I purposely held it _just _out of her reach.

"Edward!" she shrieked, "don't be so fu-"

"Full of crap, Alice Cullen?" I finished the sentence for her and she –very maturely- stuck out her tongue, "You know that I don't like parties like that, and even importantly you know I don't appreciate being traded like a sack of potatoes. So the least you could have done, was ask me."

"You would have said no!" she interjected.

"For a reason." I didn't come to Seattle to be run over by hurdles of fans and photographers in some club. I came here to get away from all that.

"But have you ever thought about the possibility that you would have fun?" Her eyes moulded into endless aquamarine pools as she tried to hypnotise me into submission and I rolled mine.

"Highly unlikely," I snorted, seeing that the only thing I would sell my soul for right now was sleep.

"Please, Edward?" her eyelashes fluttered. Even though it was hard to admit and even though Alice' words were playful, the guilt for missing out on so much of her life proved stronger than my irritation.

"You owe me," I sighed handing her the present, "You owe me big. Happy birthday. I hope for your sake it's worth it."

She let out a little squeal tearing the lid of the box off and staring at the item inside with gooey eyes.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I shall make amends. How bout pancakes?" Her arms found their way around my waist as she bounced on the mattress.

I squinted my eyes and a smirk crept up my face. "That's a start."

"Oh my God! It's even prettier than I thought!" She brushed her fingers over the craftsmanship and the little rocks breaking the sparse light into a rainbow of colours.

"Just don't forget who your favourite brother is," I grinned getting up.

"You know…" Alice started following me out the room, marvelling at her new toy now tightly fitted around her wrist, "I had a dream last night that you got me a yellow Porsche."

"Ha!" I shook my head, "Dream on." Not in this lifetime.

* * *

As much as I had craved the home made pancakes they tasted dry in my mouth. I sat jabbing in my food with little enthusiasm in the spacious light kitchen of my parents home, while Alice chatted my ears off about her party. Ever so often I uttered a one-syllable reply and that kept her satisfied as she danced around the counter. There was a time I had been used to her inability to sit still, but now she was starting to get on my nerves.

"Alice, please, sit down," I sighed.

Her fork stopped mid-air to her mouth and she stared at me.

"Why are you so grouchy?" She leant in till her face was hanging right in front of mine and I could distinguish different shades of blue in them.

"I'm just tired," I sighed and rubbed my temples.

"Jetlag," she nodded letting herself down on a stool. It wasn't long before her fingers started drumming rhythmically against the counter and I suppressed a groan.

"So…how is school?" I asked to channel my annoyance into a conversation, taking another tasteless bite. It had to be my taste buds, because the pancakes looked delicious.

"School is school," she sighed, "_Daijobu desu_".

I shook my head.

"Why is it again you are studying Japanese?"

She shrugged. I think she had as little a clue as I did. I had not been the only one in the family who was undecided about what to do after high school. College? Music? Acting seemed like a temporary solution till I figured it all out. After all it fell right in my lap. I couldn't relate to the thousands of aspiring actors struggling to make ends meet while hoping that one day they would be discovered. All I had done was go for a run like I did so often back in the day. Ten miles that despite the physical strain always provided for a strange tranquillity and the feeling that I was unstoppable. That day something stopped me. I was about halfway when I heard the "Hey, kid," that changed my life beyond comprehension. I sometimes wondered where I would be now, had I not stopped. Maybe running wouldn't have been transformed to an activity done on sleepless nights on a treadmill in some hotel, like a hamster in a running wheel. At this point these thoughts were futile of course. I could not change the past, even if I felt like doing so at times. The funny thing was that I seemed to have as little control over the future. I was caught in a wild current and paddling against it not only took a lot of energy, it was impossible.

"Edward!" My head snapped up and I dazedly stared at my sister who was leaning over the counter again.

"I'm talking to you and you have that _look_ on your face, totally not listening to me."

"What look?" I furrowed my brow.

"That depressing "I-wish-someone-would-kill-me-already-because-my-life-is-so-grave-and-I-have-nothing-that-would-give-my-existence-meaning" look. Snap out of it."

I raised my eyebrows. That was some look.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "You were saying?"

"Never mind," she sighed getting up and dropping her plate in the dishwasher with a dejected expression on her face.

"No, tell me Alice," I mustered all the enthusiasm I could manage. She shot me a glare but her features softened and she opened her mouth to retell me her tale when the front door closed and a short moment later a small woman with piercing green eyes audibly gasped.

"Edward!" she exclaimed in shock.

"Hey, mom," I smiled.

"What-I-" She shook her head, "You were supposed to come next week!"

"Surprise!" Alice bounced. She had been the only one who was informed of my homecoming last night. She didn't understand the secrecy, but once I uttered the word "surprise" we seemed to have a mutual understanding.

"I was done faster than I thought so I decided to head this way sooner as well," I explained. That was not entirely true. Esme insisted on picking me up, which in any other case would have been more than fine. With any other person, was perhaps a better word.

I had barely gotten my bags from the carousel when I heard the screams. And here I had thought I had been careful enough to prevent exactly that from happening. How people found out about my time of arrival or that I was arriving altogether was beyond me. Suddenly the exhaustion had made my feet heavy with led and I had let it flow over me like an avalanche. On automatic pilot I had handed out autographs, taken pictures. People trying to touch me, screaming. It was humiliating for lack of better term. So outrageous that I did not want my mother to be exposed to it. I knew it would hurt her if I told her to not pick me up so I tried to evade the situation altogether by means of a little white lie. The fact that they were spending the night at a friend's house was perfect timing.

"That's wonderful!" Esme dropped her purse and rushed towards me slinging her arms around me, drawing me in a tight embrace, "We missed you around here. It's been far too long."

I nodded with a sigh returning the hug. It had been far too long, indeed.

"You look good, mom." I then said and kissed her cheek. Her face had lost nothing of it's smoothness, still playfully framed by the caramel coloured curls and over time her eyes had only gotten kinder. The deeper laugh lines only seemed to emphasize the love and gentleness she emanated. It wasn't strange my father had dropped everything and flown across the Atlantic to be with her almost a quarter of a century ago. She came as close to an angel as humanly possible, and I was lucky to have her as my mother.

"You don't look too bright yourself, hon." Her fingers lightly ran over the dark circles under my eyes, "Have you been sleeping?" Then they set on my cheek. "Or eating for that matter. You look so thin."

I picked up my fork, holding a sizable piece of pancake and put it my mouth.

"I'm fine, mom. Just jetlag. I've crossed at least a dozen of time zones these past weeks in every possible way."

"Poor thing." The concern in her eyes only grew and she scoldingly looked at Alice, "Why didn't you let him sleep, young lady!"

Alice jaw dropped.

"I did!" She glanced at me, "Are you going to say something?"

"Nope," I grinned spearing the last piece of pancake off my plate. A little payback for the way she _didn't _wake me wasn't entirely out of place.

"Ass!" She hissed flinging a tea towel at me.

"Watch your language!" Esme pleaded, then looked at me again, "Would you like some coffee or tea, Edward?"

"Would you like some coffee or tea, Edward," Alice mimicked and grunted, "I'm going to shower."

She couldn't resist the urge to elbow me in the back as she passed, but I managed to stick out my foot and make her trip as a reprisal.

"You are _so_ annoying!" she yelped regaining composure and stomped up the stairs. Her bare feet were going to hurt from the effort, but little Alice Cullen would rather die than tone down. Would she ever grow out of it? I was starting to doubt it. Esme shook her head with a sigh, her question still pending.

"I'd like some coffee, please. A large mug."

With a nod she turned on the coffee maker and retrieved two generally sized mugs from the cup board.

"She really is happy you are home," she assured me, the strange urge to apologise for her daughter's behaviour apparent, "She has been talking about little else these past few days."

"I know. She needs my body for her party. Or at least the outline of it."

Esme flinched. "I told her you were not going to appreciate that."

"I'll live," I sighed, "It's for her birthday, right?" Esme smiled, placing her hand on my cheek again.

"Just don't let her walk over you." I shook my head solemnly. It was unfortunately a harder task to perform than it sounded. Alice was a force to reckoned with.

"Where is dad?" I then wondered.

"Hospital. He had to check up on a patient. Shouldn't be long," she turned around, her eyes sparkling, "He will be really thrilled to see you. Although he might schedule you for a medical exam before anything else. You really don't look good, Edward. Are you truly feeling alright?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Esme is so overprotective, I sometimes wondered how it was possible I was allowed outside as a child at all.

"I'm truly alright. It's the beard. I look like a bum."

"It makes you older," she nodded setting the mug before me. The steaming aroma filled my nostrils and I blissfully closed my eyes. I marvelled at how easy it was to reproduce Bella's image behind closed eyelids as I replayed our absurd conversation about the beverage in my mind. I wondered if she was going to call. I hoped that a moment of reflection would give her the incentive. I wanted to see her again. I ached to see her again. I remembered my father's words about my mother. How he knew from the first time he laid eyes on her that this was the girl he was going to marry. How I had laughed at those words. One glance surely could be deceitful. And yet Bella seemed to have left a mark of sorts with one touch. Suddenly Carlisle's words weren't so funny. I just had the feeling that as notable the first impression she had left on me was, the feeling was not mutual. She had done all but run away screaming to the other end of the plane when we met, she had not been eager to talk and finally when the ice seemed to break and I asked her out, she looked at me like a deer staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Edward?"

"Huh?" I blinked, Esme's soft voice bringing me back to reality.

"I can't help but think something is wrong. You seem somewhat distant."

"I'm right here, mom."

Before she could probe more - and I could see in her eyes that she was not going to let this rest – the front door fell in its lock a second time.

"Esme?" My father's voice rang through the foyer.

"Kitchen!" Esme answered winking at me. I smirked taking a sip of my coffee.

"Have you seen Bill's venture? I think he is trying to dig a moat around his house. Or excavate the fundame-" Carlisle Cullen stopped dead in his tracks upon reaching the kitchen, his eyes going wide, "Edward!"

"Morning, dad," I smirked.

"Well this is a surprise," he smiled, "It is a surprise, isn't it? Or did we muddle the dates?" He frowned, his luminous blue eyes becoming distant as he counted in his mind.

"It's a surprise," Esme and I replied simultaneously.

"Excellent!" the smile returned to his kind face and he pulled me out of the chair after setting a few wide steps to reach me. His embrace was if possible tighter than my mother's and his big hand patted my back with a couple of hollow thuds.

"It's good to have you back, son," he said holding me away from him and letting his eyes wander over my appearance. I prepared myself for another round of comments on my apparently dreadful manifestation.

"Hmm," Carlisle released me and I raised my eyebrows in relieved surprised, "How have you been? All we ever see of you is on TV."

I studied his face as I processed his words. It had become rounder and more creased by the hands of time but still held a youthfulness that many men decades younger lacked. It was his eyes. In fifty years they had lost nothing of their liveliness. However young he looked, I became aware of his age creeping through when I glanced at his hair. His temples had been adorned by patches of silver for years now, but I noticed it had spread. Being fair haired as he was, a grey hair or two had never sparked anyone's attention but standing before him now, I could clearly see that he was changing his pelt. Soon he would be a silver fox. I smirked.

"You're turning grey."

Carlisle raised his eyebrows, "And I see you have finally something real to shave."

His payback, directed at my week old facial hair made me grin. I wasn't consciously growing a beard. I simply hadn't taken any time to shave. Not that I really had time to do so in the first place. I craved a long hot bath, time to just soak and clear my mind and shave obviously. One would assume a movie star would get the lavish treatment of royalty. Partly, it was true. I had the best suites at my disposal. The best food. Someone always at my beck and call. Yet, I missed one final key element to enjoy it: time. The only moments spent there were –on a good day- used on sleep. On a bad day it was used to fight myself to do so, only to end up watching TV or go for a run. It was intricately tedious, no matter how lavish. There just didn't seem to be a middle ground. Screaming crowds on one side. On the other an empty strange room where it was at times so silent I could hear ringing in my ears. It was nice to be in a house where people actually lived. In a house that seemed to live in itself.

"I never said it didn't suit you," I replied with a soothing smile. If someone could age with maddening grace it was Carlisle. I wondered whether the nurses at the hospital still gaped after him. Being more good-looking than was good for him _next _to beingBritish elevated his existence to an almost God-like status at this side of the pond. A status, that all of us enjoyed mocking much to Carlisle's dissatisfaction. Now too he rolled his eyes and grumbled something incomprehensible

"I didn't quite catch that," I smirked, "The Britishness is very manifest today."

Esme smothered her giggle in her hand.

"Oh for the love of God," he sighed, "and then you say I'm turning grey. Isn't that obvious with a bunch of mad alecks for kids. You wait, son, just wait till you have a few of your own." He could not hide the amused gleam in his eyes, obviously enjoying the thought of me being terrorised by my future children. I was sure he was already enjoying the torment his first grandchild was inflicting on my oldest brother.

"I will invite Emmett and Rosalie over for dinner tonight," Esme said as if reading where my thoughts were heading. I nodded.

"How have they been doing?" I inquired.

"They are good," Esme answered, "little Lily is growing by leaps and bounds. She changed a lot since you last were here." I was sure she had. After all I had been away for almost six months.

"Rosalie is doing great in real estate as you could imagine." I nodded. My sister in law could easily sell shampoo to a bald man.

"And Emmett is still in his teaching phase… I'm starting to think it's not a phase. He is really happy being between the kids. Probably because he is a big child himself, still," Esme laughed softly, "They have finished their house, too. It's lovely."

I almost felt naïve for expecting that things hadn't changed in my absence. Of course they had. Just because I was all over the place, the world didn't stop gyrating around the sun, Lily didn't stop growing, decorating projects were not put to a halt, and lives did not pause. My stomach filled with strange melancholia and aggravation with myself. Why _would _people put their lives on hold for me? I certainly did not return the favour.

Esme excused herself to go make the call and left me and my father alone in the kitchen. The corners of his eyes tweaked up slightly as if he smiled without moving his lips. A smile I knew well.

"Is it strange for you?" he asked.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked and sighed, "Everything just…changed, I suppose." My shoulders lifted up in a slight shrug.

"As have you," Carlisle nodded my way.

"I have?" I wondered. It didn't feel like I was any different. Perhaps the change had been diluted by the fact that I was stuck with myself 24/7. My father nodded.

"I don't think I have ever seen a twenty-three-year-old look so old."

"Thanks…" I rolled my eyes. Quite the compliment.

"You have never been just a kid, Edward," Carlisle smiled, "In many ways you have been the oldest of the three. You always made sure you didn't get your clothes dirty, you helped your mother with the dishes, you did your homework before we could even ask whether you had some, you helped your sister with hers. You watered the plants for heaven's sake," he grinned, "But that's not what I mean. You look really tired, son." His smile fell slightly. "And I don't mean as much physically. Is everything alright?"

I heaved a sigh. Trust Carlisle to make a diagnosis.

"I think it's jetlag." I shrugged, "My sleeping habits have been suffering under it."

"Trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah," I sighed heavily, "I'm tired and yet I keep twisting and turning. I just…can't get comfortable or something."

"Do you want something for it?" Carlisle - ever the doctor - offered.

"A barbiturate-induced coma you mean?"

Carlisle laughed. There had been a time I had played with the idea of pursuing medicine. Several in fact. Every five years or so I have gotten into a phase where I would do nothing rather than dissect things, Google diseases, and ask my father a million questions. His patience with me has been endless. I'm not sure exactly anymore what his reaction was when aged seven I brought him a worm that Emmett brutally had sliced in two with a stick and asked him what the best way was to patch him up. I do remember that after I shed about half a gallon of tears we had pronounced his death and given him a burial in the garden. Emmett had to sit through one of Carlisle's lectures about valuing life, whether it came in the form of a human or a worm. I smirked at the thought. His eyes had probably glazed over before Carlisle was well on the way.

He had never been a harsh father. I don't think he ever punished us, let alone raised a hand against us. The largest castigation was when the man's eyes clouded over with disappointment. It was difficult to find another person with this much trust, benevolence, and understanding, thus when you saw that you had somehow betrayed it, it hit you like the lash of a whip. I would never forget the night he caught me sneaking out the window. He had said nothing. He didn't have to. His eyes had said it all. Suddenly the forbidden concert I was trying to catch had lost all of its appeal.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Carlisle inquired a final time filling a mug with coffee and refilling mine.

"No, I'm fine," I smiled, "I think a few days of normality is all I need."

"Good." He nodded letting the matter rest. He worried. I knew he did. Unlike Esme he didn't prod. He provided me with an opening and left it up to me to open the door further. I have always appreciated that about him. That way we fell into a comfortable silence both cradling our cups.

"They will be here at five thirty," Esme reported walking into the kitchen once more, "I better make a grocery list. Is there something you would like to eat, Edward?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but my mind came up blank so I just shrugged.

"Anything is fine."

"I'll make the lamb. You like the lamb." Her eyes sparkled as she watched me intently. I couldn't say I had an appetite for anything at the moment, but lamb sounded as good as anything else.

"I love your lamb, mom," I smiled.

"Wonderful. Darling, you will have to run some errands for me," she glanced up at Carlisle who lovingly smiled down at her. Despite the amount of sugary nicknames, there was nothing corny about their love for each other. It was so profound that I wondered whether they were an anomaly in normal human relations. Where did they even store that much affection?

* * *

Long hot baths: one. Sighs of relief: countless. Shaving cuts: unfortunately two. I dabbed my clean shaven face with a towel and inspected the massacre I had inflicted. Nothing a suture or four shouldn't fix, yet I grumbled. I had to get myself an electric razor that would put an end to this daily torture in the future. Of course, if I had to believe Carlisle, the shave was never as smooth with one of those. It wasn't surprising that Carlisle was probably the last man left shaving with a straight razor. None of that Gillette nonsense for him, as he had once said. His father had taught him how to use one, who on his turn was taught by his father and so on. My tutoring lessons had ended in a bloodbath. I still thank the Lord he had not tried to teach me to shave with a machete. I wouldn't have survived the blood loss. Since I had finally gotten over the fear of cutting my own throat I stuck to conventionality. _If_ I had to cut myself on a daily basis, why not with Gillette? At least I couldn't maim myself beyond recognition. On set my face was in the competent hands of my stylist who had not once even inflicted a scratch and on those days when I just didn't care there was always the option to simply _not_ shave. I had to say I did look better. I hoped Esme would be satisfied as well.

Tightening the towel around my hips I left the bathroom I had shared with my brother for so many years. It was so tidy when Emmett's stray laundry and towels weren't invading it, it almost felt foreign. Even though it had for the largest part been my personal bathroom for some three years since he went off to college and I had made sure to keep it accessible, I missed the mess. Living without the loud and over present Emmett in this house had never felt the same. I could only imagine how Alice had to feel being left only child. Then again, being Alice, perhaps she just danced out of joy.

From my bag I grabbed a grey pullover and my favourite pair of jeans, worn to the thread and sporting a sizable hole over my left knee. It didn't matter. They were comfortable. My watch found its way back over my wrist and I looked around my room missing an item that was on me at all times. My phone. It was laying on the nightstand. The little envelope was indicating that I had several messages and for a moment my stomach fluttered when I thought one of those could be from her. Impatiently I scrolled through them and rolled my eyes. My agent was officially stalking me.

8.45 _Saw you arrived in one piece. What's with the sweats? Call me when you have a sec. We need to discuss some things about that new campaign for Armani. Lauren. _

8.50 _Before I forget I have several scripts for you. All blockbuster material. I'm fed-exing them as we speak. Lauren._

9.12 _Talked to Daugherty. That club opening in Miami is a must-go. So leave February 14__th__ open. You'll have fun! I'm sure Tanya will be there as well. Lauren._

9.15 _For fuck's sake. Are you dead? Lauren._

10.00 _How long are you planning on staying in Seattle anyway? You never answered me. Lauren._

10.15 _That last interview in the UK was a hit. They love you. We should have used that half britishness of yours much much sooner. Lauren. _

11.04 _Saw the pap pics from Tanya's birthday. Very nice! You should take her to the Globes. Lauren. _

11.27 _Not sure you will be able to go on with your little BBC side project. The shooting of "The Battle" starts in early may. Lauren. _

11.48 _Hey Edward, just wanted to say that your paycheque came through. Not that you ever seem to check. The other day I was playing with the idea to run off with your money. Steve._

I sighed. No Bella. Of course it had not even been a day, but I couldn't help but feel that she wasn't going to call at all. Why had she been so opposed to me? She was staring at me in the magazine for heaven's sake. It couldn't be that I was that appalling in real life. Maybe I was. It was so standard to have women at my feet that I for a moment forgot that I was not irresistible. Why _would_ she go out with me? She was clearly a beautiful, intelligent, fascinating woman. She could do much better than me. After all, all I did was play dress up for money whilst living out of a suitcase. I groaned for a moment feeling like sulking at my fame. So I sat down on the chaise and composed a quick message to my accountant.

_Dear Steve, heard the Caimans are nice. Send me a post card. Edward _

I pressed send and waited till it did. Then, with a grave sigh and great reluctance I speed dialled Lauren. She picked up on the first ring.

"_God! Finally! I thought you had fallen off the face of the earth__ or something. Listen—Oh wait one sec…" _I laid back and stared at the ceiling as Lauren rummaged through her desk and yelled at her assistant.

* * *

"Edward! Where have you been? I was about to send out a search," Esme exclaimed joyfully when I resurfaced, as she hurried from one side of the kitchen to the other with an oven dish in her hands. My ear was buzzing from Lauren's ramble. She was one talkative person. I wished I had actually registered at least half she had fired at me, but my mind was preoccupied and sulky.

"I was on the phone with my agent," I sighed setting my phone on the counter, "Do you need any help?"

"No, no. Sit," she planted a bowl in front of me. I raised my eyebrows in question but Esme only smiled. I looked down and couldn't help but smile as well.

"I made a chocolate cake," she voiced my thoughts and handed me a spoon. I truly did adore my mother. I scraped some of the chocolate residue from the bowl and put the spoon in my mouth closing my eyes blissfully.

"I see you haven't lost your sweet tooth," she grinned.

No. Even after I would lose every single one of my other teeth, this one would remain. Chocolate made the world go round.

"And still can't shave without casualties," Carlisle winked out of nowhere grabbing my face in one of his big hands. I grunted. For a moment it felt like I was sixteen again.

"We can't all be surgeons," I shot back. He only laughed running a hand through my damp hair and hurried to tend to Esme who was now standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach a bowl in the most upper shelf of a cupboard.

"Thank you , love," she pressed a kiss to his jaw as he handed her the piece of tableware.

"Where is Alice?" I wondered. I had not seen her since that morning.

"She is out. Should be back before dinner."

"Out where?" I asked scraping the last of the chocolate out of the bowl. For the briefest of moments I saw Esme and Carlisle exchange a glance. I eyed them waiting for a reply.

"Could you hand me the sauce, honey?" My mother asked and Carlisle complied.

"What's going on?" I asked warily, "Did she join the Hells Angels?"

"Don't be silly," Esme smiled my way. Oh, I was being silly? I scowled.

"Well look who's here," Carlisle exclaimed overjoyed to see a red car – most likely Rosalie's -- coming to a halt on the gravel of the drive way.

"Edward, why don't you get the door?" Esme requested. I got up and padded barefoot to the massive oak door, pulling it open, a smirk tugging at my lips as I saw Emmett and Rosalie bicker in the car. Finally the bear of a man got out and a grin flashed across his round face.

"Eddie!" I cringed.

"_Must _you do that?" I asked eyebrows raised, but my smirk not faltering.

"Of course!" Emmett boomed. Before I knew it he had me in a bone breaking embrace and lifted me off the ground. I gasped as a sharp pain nestled in my back.

"Emmett," I managed, "Can't breathe." He released me and I took a breath looking up to him with a shake of my head. His brown eyes were sparkling.

"Oy, Rose! Hurry up!" he bellowed.

"Well, Mister, if you would help me getting _your _daughter out of the car seat, I might!" the blonde retorted with a scowl.

"Well, _Missy_." That earned him another glare, "Had we taken my jeep, like always, I would actually fit in the back of the car to help you." I rolled my eyes in amusement. Some things were still the same apparently.

Under the opened car door I suddenly saw a pair of tiny shoes and a white legging, a pluck of fair hair sticking out just where I could see it through the car window.

"Lily bear! Come say hi to uncle Edward," he called his daughter. Rosalie straightened and closed the door, beautiful and fearsome looking as ever. Hiding behind her legs was a little girl. Though not as little as she had been last time I had laid eyes on her. She shadowed her mother's every move. I got down in a crouch.

"Hey, Lily, remember me?" I asked. One hazel eye peeked around her mothers thigh before disappearing swiftly.

"Oh come on lil' bear!" Emmett roared, "It's just your silly Uncle Eddie." He hit my back and I nearly toppled over.

"I suppose she's shy," I said getting up with a sigh as Lily ran inside the house past us.

"She just hasn't seen you in so long," Rose explained, brushing a wisp of blonde hair from her face. I could not argue with that.

"You look good," I told her. A smirk crept up her flawless face as she cocked her head slightly.

"I know," was her answer as she too walked past me, the smirk still playing on her lips. I couldn't help but smirk myself. Some things _really_ didn't change and I was grateful for that.

As Alice seemed to have ridden off into the sunset with her new buddies (I still was convinced it was a motorcycle gang of sorts since no one had denied nor confirmed it), we decided to start on dinner. The lamb was steaming and Lily was still eyeing me with a distrustful look on her endearing face. Each time I would glance her way she would hide it in her mother's arm. I sighed. I had done nothing to upset her, but I had never bonded with her either. Before I could give it more thought the front door fell in its lock with a hasty thud, echoing through the foyer.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" Alice bounced past the dinging room doing several things at once; losing her coat while undoing her shoes.

"I got …caught up!" She ran the other way, "Just gonna wash my hands!"

I was amazed how every single person at the table, excluding Lily and myself rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Why did you need to wash your hands?!" Emmett roared nearly chocking on his food when she finally returned. Alice threw him a dirty look.

"Shut it, Emmett!"

She plopped down beside me, her pixie like face still flushed from her hurry. I furrowed my eyebrows. She leant in reaching for the potatoes and I could just barely contain my gasp. There on her fair skinned neck was a purple blemish. I looked at her with wide eyes, pursed my lips together and grabbed my phone from my pocket.

_Is that a hickey Alice Cullen???? __Little hussy, where have you been? _Send.

She visibly jumped up as her phone vibrated in her pocket and took the excuse to put her napkin in her lap to see who it was.

Her hand flew to her neck in an instant and she looked at me with ample blue orbs. Then her fingers disappeared under the table cloth again and a few moments later my Blackberry buzzed.

_None of your business! Shut up._

I was about to reply when Carlisle cleared his throat.

"Are you two texting under the table?" he asked with raised eyebrows and both Alice' and my cheeks coloured a slight pink. Our father shook his head extending his hand and we sighed. There had always been a strict "no phone at dinner" rule.

"Come on, here with them. You'll get them back after dinner. Kids these days. Soon those phones will grow out of your head."

With a sigh we both placed our respective cell phones in his hand and he laid them next to him at the head of the table. Emmett was hiding his amusement, but from the looks he was giving Alice, I was not sure it had to do with the texting. Apparently everyone in this room knew about the source of my sisters love bite except for me. Wonderful.

"How is Jasper doing, Rose?" I changed the subject. No one was going to tell me anything anyway. Alice suddenly chocked. Her face balanced between red and purple as I patted her back and she coughed violently. Emmett shook with laughter.

"That's not funny at all!" Esme chided, "Honey, are you okay?"

Alice nodded, wiping her tears and taking a sip of water.

"I just inhaled a potato. I'm fine," she wiped her mouth with her napkin her throat still itching as she coughed again, "Excuse me for a moment." As she got up from the table, Esme followed.

"I'm just going to make sure she is alright. Emmett, please, cut it out."

I stared at my brother weeping at the table as his booming laughter spread through the room. Carlisle couldn't help himself as he hid his chuckle in his napkin. Rose glanced my way and smirked, feeding Lily another piece of lamb.

"Jasper is more than fine."

I couldn't help but have the feeling I was missing something.

* * *

After Alice had returned Esme had silenced the table with one glance and we had finished our dinner with light conversation, while Alice avoided my gaze at all cost. Afterwards we all helped clean up. Esme ran a tub full of hot water and soap for the crystal, while Alice loaded the dishwasher. Carlisle and Emmett walked back and forth with dishes. Rosalie put on the coffee and I took the tea towel to dry the glasses Esme had already rinsed. It was a full house, yet no one seemed to feel it was too small. I lazily leant against the counter rubbing the glasses till they sparkled and looked around with a content smile. It had been ages since I had a night like this and I had missed it. Lily ran past me for the umpteenth time in her structural rampage around the house. Twice around the cooking island, once alongside the cupboards, in to the foyer, up the stairs and back down again, through the dining room, in the kitchen, only to repeat her cycle. I shook my head and the unending energy. This time, however, I noticed something different. She had my phone in her little hand and on top of that it was ringing. I lunged after her grabbing her by her waist and picked her up.

"Give me that, Lily," I told her looking into her endless hazel pools, "It's not a toy."

She shook her head and wiggled in my grip.

"Lily," I pleaded glancing at the caller ID. Not a number I knew. Area code 206, Seattle. My stomach galloped and I nearly dropped my niece to wrestle the phone out of her. It had to be _her_. I groaned. I couldn't do anything holding her in my hands on top of the glasswork between my fingers.

"Emmett!" I roared glancing at his thieving daughter with an exasperated look.

"Lily, give it back. Now." Emmett ordered. I set her on the counter next to the sink and put down the glasses, stretching my hand as she stretched hers. Everything seemed to slow down as her fingers let go of the device and it tumbled in the soapy water right before my eyes, my hand nowhere near it. The ringing stopped. Six pairs of wide eyes stared at the bubbly sink. I blinked.

"Oh dear," Esme's soft voice cut through the silence like a velvet knife. She fished the now deceased Blackberry from the sink and put it on the towel.

"Maybe if we blow dry it?" She offered. I grinded my teeth and glanced at the demon child sitting before me, eyes innocently set on the murky water.

"Now it's washed," she suddenly laughed and I fought the urge to scream.

"Why did you _DO_ that?!" I yelled grabbing her shoulders. Her laugh ceased midair and her bottom lip trembled, before tears brimmed her eyes and she started crying inexorably.

"Get your hands off her!" Rosalie yelled at me picking her up and cradling her inconsolable body in her arms, her hazel eyes now almost a burning gold.

"Well then she get her hands off my stuff! And _you _watch your uncontrollable kid!"

"Cut it out you two!" Esme rebuked, her soft voice holding a rock solid authority as she set her hands in her sides.

I rarely lost my temper and in hindsight it was a sudden and uninhibited burst that was out of character. Rosalie turned around ready to stride out of the kitchen and Emmett debated which side to take. He glanced at me with both apologetic and reprimanding eyes and followed his wife.

"What is going on here?" Carlisle wondered walking into the heated atmosphere of the room. A room full of angry and anxious faces.

"Lily dropped Edwards phone in the water," Esme said quietly.

Carlisle sighed glancing at me and not liking what he saw.

"Go cool off," he told me, "I'll handle this."

I splayed my arms in frustration and strode out of the kitchen, making my way upstairs and slamming the door of my room shut. The darkness and the silence it offered pooled over me in a soothing manner, yet it didn't really alleviate the irritation I was feeling.

Bella had called. I was sure it was her. And what did it matter? I didn't get to see her, let alone speak to her. I didn't even have her number. I buried my face in my pillow and groaned. A soft knock made me lift up my head slightly, if only to tell the person on the other end not to bother. Nevertheless, the door squeaked open and a dash of light pooled in the room from the corridor.

"What do you want, Alice?" I sighed dropping my head back in the pillows.

"Just wondering why you are so upset," she said inching closer till she sat down on the bed next to me.

"Is the fact that my phone was _washed_ not enough?" I asked sardonically.

"For you?" I saw her smile slightly in the twilight, "No, not really. Was it an important call?"

I let out a deep sigh.

"It might have been."

"Work?"

"No."

It was silent for a moment. Perhaps she was thinking what it could be, perhaps she already knew and wanted to leave it up to me to fill in the blank. I let her do the guessing.

"A girl?"

I didn't say anything. _A girl_. It sounded so juvenile to make such a fuss over _a girl. _I had yelled at my niece over _a girl. _

"Edward?"

"Yes," I sighed, "I met her on the plane last night and I gave her my number. Now everything is quite literally down the drain."

"Why didn't you ask _her _number?" Alice asked and my jaw tightened. Her bell like giggle indicated she had gotten the clue. Edward Cullen had not gotten a girl to tell him her number. Alert the media. On a second thought, better not.

"I like her already," she chuckled.

"Well I'm glad _you _approve," I sneered. The way I saw it, this was not amusing at all.

"Oh come, Edward," she playfully ruffled my hair and I growled, "what do you know about her?"

"Her name is Bella Swan, she is from Seattle and she owns a bookshop. That's it." I rubbed my face.

"Well Edward Cullen, that is really all the information you need." I stared at her gleaming eyes as she smirked down at me with that outlandish all-knowing glow about her, sparking a little bit of hope in me as well.

* * *

**AN****: So this has become quite a monster again. I am not sure what has gotten into me. This is not usually a chapter size I adhere to lol. ****For those interested Daijobu desu means "It's all right". Just in case you might wonder, Japanese is not amongst the languages I speak ;). ****Finally, please leave me a review! Pretty please! With a cherry on top! It is after all my birthday! **


	3. Down the Rabbit Hole

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**AN: First of all, a big thanks to all of you who left me such fantastic elaborate reviews! You rock my socks :D. It really is a stimulus to get the next chapter out faster, if you know that people actually take the time to thoroughly read it and provide you with comments :)**

**Secondly, it would be unfair to not thank Starlight841, my beta for all intents and purposes, who has been a tremendous help when I felt stuck on this chapter. Therefore, my gratitude. **

**THIS CHAPTER HAS SINCE BEEN EDITED!!!! **

**Alverdine.**

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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Chapter 3: Down the Rabbit Hole

_-B-_

I drew in a deep breath and bit my lip as my finger pressed the call button. My heart thudded almost painfully in my chest as it rung, my stomach knotting at the prospect of his voice filling my ear. I forgot how to exhale when it did.

"_Hi--"_

"Eh-h-hi," I stammered.

"_--you've reached Edward Cullen, I am not available at the present—"_My eyebrows knit together and I stared at the phone. Voicemail? It rung three times. Why would I get the voicemail? Unless, he clicked my call away. I bit my lip. Of course. Why else would I go right to voicemail. He saw a strange number, thought it was probably me, and hung up.

"_--time, but leave a message, name, and number and I'll be sure to get back to you as soon as p--"_

I clicked the call away before it would really go to voicemail and leant my head against the cool glass of my bedroom window. _What_ in the name of all that was holy was I thinking? That he would jump at the sight of my number? That he was going to drop everything and arrive here with a bouquet of roses to take me out to dinner? I was positively out of my mind.

"Stupid Bella," I mumbled. He had come to his senses. Of course he had. Why would he ever even look my way if not by the coincidence that he is forced to sit next to me? Why would he talk to me if not to take his nerves down a notch? I glanced at my bed, where my tomcat Winston sat gauging me with his bright orange eyes.

"Stupid Bella," I repeated and his ears twitched like two little antennas. He let out a meow agreeing with me fully.

"Bella, are you there?" Angela Weber's breathless voice reached me through the barrier that was my bedroom door.

"Yeah!" I called and rubbed my face angrily. _Stupid Bella!_

Making my way to meet my room mate I picked up Winston under my arm. Angela let out a grave sigh and kicked out her heels.

"I hate our elevator!" She proclaimed and pushed her spectacles further up her nose. I smiled sympathetically. I knew all about our devilish elevator and the top-notch repairmen who –in the two months that the thing was out of service- had managed to stick a sticker on the doors providing us with the superfluous information that it was indeed broken. In the meantime we had to climb a million of steps to reach our apartments, ravishing "athletic" creatures that we were.

"I know. It's becoming ridiculous," I said leaning against the wall of our hall. After I had moved to the bustling metropolis that was Forks, Angela had soon become one of my closest friends. A friendship that had extended after graduation. We both ended up in Seattle: me enrolling at the University of Washington, she following her dream to see the world and becoming a flight attendant. Living together had both been to aid us financially and through the adjustment period of being alone in a city with a slightly bigger perimeter than Forks. And seeing that the easygoing Angela was one of the few people I could live with without suicide nor homicide attempts, it worked just fine.

"Oh well." She gave me a smile. "You're back! How was it? You don't look very tanned. Meet any cute guys?" I inwardly groaned. Perhaps there were a few times where I would rather have someone knock me out cold than stand listen to the waterfall of questions, starting with the observation about my tan, which of course reminded me of Edward's remark, which once again made me feel like two cents asking for change.

"I-it was fine. It was nice. Mom is good. We had fun. Not so pleasant flight, though."

"What happened?" she asked dragging her feet to the couch and letting herself fall in the cushions, not bothering to change out of her uniform first. I contemplated telling her about the whole ordeal, but decided against it. She was never going to leave me alone and seeing that it was just a crazy fluke, I would spare myself the trouble.

"I sat next to an annoying kid and his even more annoying mother and behind me, a kid that kicked my seat the entire time." I plopped down next to her and ran a hand through Winston's soft orange fur till he purred in delight.

"Oh God. Poor you." She sighed, "but I'm not sure what's worse. _That_ or suddenly running into your ex."

"What?" I glanced at her in confusion.

"Nick. He was on my flight from Denver to Seattle. That was…_awkward_. I haven't seen him since freshman year. And he asked me for my number. Now with Ben and I almost getting together and everything." She sighed, "You are still coming with me Thursday, right?"

"Uhm…sure, yeah." There were at least a dozen things I'd rather do than go to her almost-boyfriend's birthday party, but Angela was very good in guilt-tripping me into joining her to such events.

"Hope he doesn't show up at Ben's party. He of all people asked me for my _number,_ Bells! Crazy or what?"

If she thought _that_ was crazy…

"Totally crazy." I agreed wholeheartedly.

* * *

After two hours of twisting and turning I threw the comforter aside and got out of bed. This wasn't working. It was too quiet. Too much space to think about what could have been. I groaned. In another universe, a different time and if I were a totally different person. Even though I had thrown the receipt with his number in the bin it was still gnawing at my brain. I shook my head and decided to get me a bowl of yoghurt as an one am snack and watch some TV till I would fall asleep. I installed myself on the couch, pulled a blanket over my legs, balancing the bowl on the armrest and searched for the remote, finding it under Winston's warm belly. I was pleased to tune in on a rerun of the _Howard Miles Show_.

It was one of my favourite talk shows for its broad variety of people and subjects and I loved how Howard always seemed to be so unfazed –British to his bone marrow- no matter who it was that was sitting on his couch. In addition his questions did not revolve around underwear choice. Winston let out a soft purr when I scraped my nails over his soft head and nestled against my stomach, while I scooped up some yoghurt with the spoon in my other. The commercials ended.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back. This second part of today's show we have a special guest here. For several years now he seems to have the female world population in a tizzy, and now the new film _Flightless Bird _is another big hit, we here at the Howard Miles Show decided to sound him out. Without further ado, please welcome, Edward Cullen."_

I gasped, the yoghurt jumping in the wrong cavity and I coughed heavily, my eyes tearing up, my lungs burning for oxygen. I moved Winston and got up – still coughing—hurrying to the kitchen. While I poured myself a glass of water I could see the reflection of my scorching red face in the window. I drank eagerly spilling some over my chin and took a deep breath afterwards, setting my glass back on the counter. He was everywhere and he was killing me by doing so.

Both apprehensively and eagerly I made my way back to the couch and sat down with a sigh. Winston lazily travelled over the back rest and I snatched him curling my arms around him as if he was my safety cushion. He didn't protest limply accepting his fate.

I couldn't tear my eyes off of Edward as he sat in the chair to the left of Howard, who looked sharp in his everlasting pinstripe suit, matching his silver hair. Edward took a quick drink of water from the glass that had been set down in front of him and smiled at his audience, a loud cheer instantly arising from all the women in the room. He smirked and leant back in his chair.

"_Edward, how are you doing this evening? Enjoying London?" _Howard asked, his British accent and stoic manner making the simple question sound profounder than it was. There was something about him that was both enthralling and unsettling.

"_I'm doing fairly well, Howard. A little jet-lagged, but other than that I'm getting along alright. London is always a great place to be," _Edward answered casually placing the ankle of his right leg on his left knee. I had to admit, if Howard looked sharp in his suit, Edward looked nothing short of damn fine in his own Payne's grey blazer showing off the crisp white of his shirt. His strange coppery hair sat atop of his head in what could only be described as organised chaos. It looked soft. I knew it _was_ soft. My fingers raked over Winston's side once more and his purr reminded me of Edward's full surrender to my touch. I rolled my eyes at myself. _Yes, Bella, pretend your cat is the man on television. That will do you good. _A spoonful of yoghurt found its way into my mouth as I kept watching.

"_You've been flying a lot these days, haven't you?" _

"_Constantly. I haven't been back in Seattle in months." _It sounded almost nostalgic, his voice and as I remembered his answer to my question about his living situation I couldn't help sigh sympathetically. _Nowhere._ I felt as if _I _had trouble belonging. How did it have to feel for a person who didn't actually stay anywhere longer than a few weeks or maybe even days?

"_Speaking of your home...I heard the other day that you have British roots. Is that true?" _The host's next question pulled me back to reality. Edward laughed for a moment, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"_I think yours run deeper than mine. My father is a limey by origin. He met my mum when she was living in England for a brief period of time, fell head over heels in love and decided to follow her back to the States." _The audience awed. _"Yeah…he's a bit of a romantic, my Dad." _Edward smirked. _"But they stayed over there and I grew up in an all American family really."_

"_I love how you say _mum._ Can't erase that English blood can you?"" _Howard chuckled, _"Stay here another month and you'll be playing cricket."_

Edward laughed and shook his head running his hand over his face briefly and leaving his eyebrow in disarray. I chuckled.

"_I think I would be deported the moment I set foot on that field with a bat."_ He answered leaning his chin in his palm, "_It's called a bat isn't it?" _

"_Hasn't your old man taught you anything?" _Howard scoffed, "_It _is_ called a bat by the way." _

"_He's assimilated very well.__" _Edward chuckled, "_Has become quite the baseball fan."_ The audience booed.

"_Oh come on, you ill-tempered Brits , have some respect! I don't go trouncing your mores either." _Edward winked a heavy English accent drenching his words and the spectators erupted in cheer. I grinned at how easily he seemed to play the public and Howard even, whom I rarely saw this light-hearted.

_"So have you been introduced to _some_ element of British culture, even if not as profound as cricket."_

_"Oh of course. Music; my brother used to love to abuse a good Beatles' song in the shower, books, movies…tea? Hmm what else…"_

"_Is your brother cute?" _A sudden shout from the audience came and Edward's eyes searched the crowd, eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"_Well…"_ he then drolled, _"His wife thinks so." _

A cry of discontent was cause for another round of laughter.

_"_I'm _hosting here!" _Howard reprimanded with a sterness that didn't quite reach his eyes, _"Where was I? Films you said. Any favourites?"_

"_That's a tough one." _Edward chuckled, took a sip from his glass again, for a moment gazing at the carpet as he thought, _" I don't know, I have so many._ _I guess _if _I had to pick one, _Brief Encounter._" _

"_That is really before your time. Why _Brief Encounter_?"_

"_I suppose it shows that even emotionally repressed British can display emotion. In a very inconspicuous manner evidently." _He smirked and I shook my head in amazement as Howard once again laughed at this dual sneer.

"I usually don't have such a trouble reading people," he had said on the flight. I started to believe him. He had both the audience and Howard wrapped around his finger and the latter was not an easy task to perform. He could probably mould himself in every shape or form, every role. That was most likely why he was so good at what he did. It did leave me with two questions though. What was his act around me and who was the real Edward Cullen? I sighed. Why did I even bother? It was not like we could be anything. Ever. Not friends, not … We were too far apart. Just two strangers, having had a brief encounter. That's probably why he didn't answer my call. He realised he must have been out of his mind when he asked me to have dinner with him. _Me. _Boring, plain Bella. A pesky jar lid as he had called it. No one was a fan of pesky jar lids. I sure wasn't.

"_Alright. So before we get on with our programming, I have been coerced in to asking you this question: Are you single?"_ Howard asked and I watched Edward duck his head slightly in what almost was a shy manner as he laughed quietly.

"_I am,"_ he then replied and the crowd of women erupted into cheer nearly making me jump up. It looked quite menacing. I imagined a stampede of buffalo charging at him and furrowed my eyebrows at my own ridiculousness. Then I sighed letting myself down in the cushions and pulling the blanket to cover my whole body. Of course he was single. Why would he settle. With what he had going for him, he didn't have to do much to get any woman he wanted. And when the thrill was over… there was the next one more than willing to step in. For a moment longer I watched his beautiful face, laughing at something Howard said, before taking the remote. The screen went black and for a while longer I stared at it, the room so silent now. A sudden tiredness wrapped itself around me like a second blanket and I closed my eyes, not bothering to get up from the couch.

* * *

Three days, eighteen hours and twenty seven minutes had passed since I had my mental slip and actually attempted to reach Edward Cullen, with the ingenious plan to get back on my decision to _not_ go out with him. Three days, eighteen hours and now twenty eight minutes of scolding myself for being so stupid. With a sigh I got up from the chair in the little office at the back of the store and decided to unpack a box or two. I tried to lift one and huffed. It weighed a ton.

"Dave?" I called my employee. Silence. I sighed. Big "help" he was, "Dave!"

"Yeah?" I got a muffled response.

"Where are you? Could you please come help me with these boxes? I think there are rocks in there."

I waited patiently till the tall lanky guy in his early twenties appeared in the doorway.

"What's up?" he asked shoving his oversized hands in the pockets of his worn jeans.

"I can't lift these boxes," I said, "If you could carry them to the front."

Dave didn't say anything. He just pushed his long blond locks out of the way and bent down to pick up one of the boxes in his large hands, his face slightly flushing at the weight.

"Maybe we need a cart or something." I mused. Dave struggled to the front and I heard him drop the box to the floor. Thankfully, we didn't sell porcelain. In silence he came to get the next one, just as I remembered that Mrs. Kramer was going to pick up her special edition of Shakespeare's complete works later that afternoon. I had to find it before she got here. Despite owning a bookshop, the filing system was not yet flawless.

Dave peeked his head through the door opening.

"Yes?"

"Coffee break?" he asked.

"Sure." I nodded, "Don't be too long. Need to find a book for Mrs. Kramer. And I haven't got the slightest clue where it could be."

"The Shakespeare?" Dave asked.

"Yes."

"I think it's up there, on the front. Top shelf. With the special edition vintages."

"Okay. Thanks." I smiled, "Go, have a break."

He didn't have to be told again and I heard the little bell above the door chime as he left the store. It was nice working with him. He was quiet, but competent in his own slow motioned and awkward way. I didn't mind, as long as the work got done. With a sigh I looked around the messy office. And work was there plenty. I was starting to think I was never going to get organised. If I had to start somewhere. Why not Mrs. Kramer's book. I made my way through the stocked tables and book cases till I found myself in the front compartment of the store and looked up at the fourteen foot tall book case that reached the ceiling. I wheeled the ladder that was attached to this side of the bookcase wall to the place where I thought I saw something that might be the book. It wasn't tall enough, the ladder and as I got to the highest step that still offered me some support I reached out my arm. Long-limbed, _tall_ Dave would have been very helpful at the time. I stood on my tiptoes and reached with my fingertips for one of the many volumes of Shakespeare's complete works we offered. Some of which were conveniently placed within reaching distance from the ground. Unfortunately Mrs. Kramer wanted this special edition. My fingers plucked at its back, nudging it out of its place bit by bit. My arm was beginning to sting. I tried to stretch further holding on to ladder, grabbing a vintage copy of Steinbeck for support.

"Oh come on…" I moaned. I needed a taller ladder.

The little bell above the door chimed as I peeled the novel slightly out of the shelve and got my fingers around the back in a more firm manner.

"Dave?" I asked glancing back briefly and noticing that it wasn't my assistant. It was a man, his back facing me as he closed the door behind him.

"I'll be right with you," I told the customer focussing my attention on my task again and pulling. It didn't budge. I pulled harder, fighting the urge to get a crowbar. Two hands then. I leant my knee against the book case and hooked the digits of both my hands around the back of the book. One tug. Nothing. Feeling my cheeks heat up with annoyance I yanked again with all my might. As if it had been taunting me the whole time it shot loose, along with every other book on the shelf. I let out a scream, trying to save myself from the shower of dusty ten pounders raining down on me, whilst fighting to regain my balance from the backwards force the infuriating 2500 pages had propelled at me.

Having had balance issues on solid ground ever since I learnt how to move in a vertical fashion, I knew better. And while everything happened in only a matter of long seconds I had enough time to form one dreadful thought in to detailed perfection: I was gonna die.

I fell like Alice down the rabbit hole for what felt like eternity and I clenched my eyes shut in anticipation of the hit, while my arms snaked around the special edition that was to blame for my early demise. The impact against my back was hard and came with a simultaneous sting behind my legs, but not as hard as I had expected. Perhaps, I was dead already, before the actual pain could reach my brain. Maybe that's how easily it went.

"Now, how will you be with me if you have a scull fracture?" A voice so familiar and enticing, carried on a slightly ragged breath whirled in my mind. Death really was an astonishing experience. And although I had never been much of a religious person, seeing that my mother changed religious fixations faster than a shoe fetishist would change a pair of shoes, God was talking to me. And he had _his _voice.

"Bella, breathe." _Bella, breathe?_ What was the necessity of that? It seemed entirely redundant. But it wasn't, I realised as I noticed the sharp sting of my lungs screaming for air. My eyes shot open and I took in a gulp of oxygen. The world barged in, or better said my book shop and I wasn't on its floor. I was hanging in the air, a good three feet above it. Slowly it downed on me that I was not having a very odd out of the body experience, but that someone was holding me. A pair of arms wrapped tightly around me were beginning to sting. I clung to the book in mine as if it was my only hold to sanity and dared to look up. Immediately I forgot to breathe again.

"I—I—oh my God." The incapacitating speech deficiency kicked in the moment I met the pair of dazzling emerald orbs.

"Hardly." His chuckle was soft but slightly strained, "Are you alright? Breathe."

I did as I was told, inhaling again, if only to show myself I was still capable of doing so.

"I-ehm- I fell." I tried to explain more so to myself than to him.

"I noticed…" Amusement was creeping through the melodious tone of his voice.

"You caught me?" My heart started pounding in my chest in belated shock at what had happened.

"So it seems. Did one of the books hit you in the head? I think you might have a concussion." He furrowed his eyebrows. With difficulty I disentangled one of my hands from the leather-bound volume still tightly pressed to my chest and patted my head absentmindedly.

"I don't think so."

The look in his eyes was balancing somewhere between amusement and concern, as if he couldn't make up my mind whether I was simply crazy or hurt. Taking in another deep breath of air I blinked and wiggled in his arms. The steel hold of his limbs under me was really becoming uncomfortable, the parts that caught the blow pulsating under my skin. This somehow seemed both more elegant and more comfortable in movies.

"I—could you set me down?" I asked meekly. Edward complied setting my feet on the ground and straightening up again before releasing my back. It was as if in the minutes that had passed I had forgotten how to use my legs. My bones had somehow liquefied, be it through the fall or through Edward's presence, and my head spun around. I closed my eyes and leant towards him, my forehead coming to a rest against his pea coat clad shoulder.

"Head rush," I mumbled, his otherworldly scent filling my nostrils and making my already hazy head spin even more. I scented leather offset by gentle touches of vanilla, a hint of sandalwood and something I couldn't place . Something rich, golden, sweet. It beguiled me to take another sniff.

"Are you okay?" His arm curled around me, strong fingers combing through my hair. I hummed too late realising it resembled a moan and I cleared my throat, my cheeks heating up as stepped back.

"Yeah." I glanced at the ground, my view obstructed by a pair of shining black, Chelsea boot vamps , "I'm good. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ehm…crash on you."

"And here I thought it was premeditated." He smirked. That beautiful curl of his lips that made my heart beat faster. I swallowed, then furrowed my brow as I stared at his perfectly sculpted face realising that I was still missing one giant chunk of information.

"What are you doing here?" It left my mouth as an accusation for some reason, whilst not meant as such and I shook my head as if to shake myself awake. _Snap out of it, Bella! _

He seemed to be thinking about his reply and when he was done he chose to do so with a question.

"Did you call me, Bella?"

"I-" I felt like a kid caught with my hand in the cookie jar, "I did." A crimson flushed my face. I fanned it with my hand. Whenever he was around my blush-o-meter seemed to be off the chart. He let out a soft brief laugh.

"And I didn't pick up."

I raised my eyebrows. Was he here to tell me he didn't pick up? The fact was already painfully obvious.

"No you didn't…" Now it was my turn to eye him as if he had been hit by one of the books.

"There is a rather strange but I very valid explanation for that." Why did he feel like explaining to me in the first place? Was he feeling guilty? He really needn't bother.

"You don't owe me an explanation. It was your prerogative to answer or not to answer." I shrugged, letting myself down to the floor and started to pile the books scattered all around me.

"I do." Suddenly he was beside me and grabbed my hand before it could reach another manuscript, sending an electrifying stir through my body, "I do, because I wanted to pick up."

I stared at him for a moment, unable to think because all brain activity seemed to have focussed on his hand on mine. What was he doing to me? No man should have such an effect on a woman. It was incapacitating.

"I didn't have your number." He continued his reasoning and I continued my stare, "And the reason I didn't, is because my niece dropped my phone in the water. I know how that sounds. But she did. She was running around like the little quicksilver mechanism she is and I hadn't noticed she had snatched my phone. It rang and – I was doing the dishes by the way- so I grabbed her, but I had glasses in my hands and a five year old and she wouldn't give it back. And then she dropped it…right in the sink. In the water. But I had seen it was a Seattle area code and I was _hoping_ you would call. I am not lying to you, Bella. Think about it, why would I lie? You can call my mother and ask." Before I could reply to the strange ramble he had just thrust upon me, he dug his hand in his pocket and retrieved a phone. I blinked as he pressed some buttons and handed it to me. I shook my head in confusion.

"What? I – no I believe you." I gave him back the phone just as I heard a woman's voice on the other end call his name.

"Mom, hi," he said putting it to his ear in an awkward angle, "No, everything is fine. I wanted to ask you something, but it's solved. Yes. Uhm, yeah I will be there. Meatloaf is fine, but really we still have leftovers from yesterday. Fine. As you wish. I will see you tonight, Mom. Love you too, bye." He put the device back in his pocket as I tried to hide my smile.

"I have to be home before dinner," he said earnestly and I grinned. I bit my lip, trying to find the words to ask him a simple question that seemed to be stuck in my throat. I took a deep breath. It was just coffee. I was just going to ask him for a cup of coffee. To thank him for not letting me die. _Say it! Say it! Say it!_ I screamed at myself.

"Coffee!" Now I sounded as if I had Tourettes. It was official. Bella Swan was just incapable of the must basic human interaction. I cleared my throat, "I mean… would you like…some? Coffee that is? I have some in the back. It's no Starbucks, but it's coffee. Caffeinated and such. I could of course run to Starbucks. It's a few blocks away. Yes, I will just do that," I scrambled to my feet and Edward got up as well, a smile playing on his lips.

"Your coffee is just fine, Bella," he said, popping the buttons of his graphite coat and unwound the scarf around his neck.

"Ehm…I will be right back then," I started making my way towards the back of the store where the storage room was as well as a tiny office, but stopped – realising I had no idea how he liked his coffee- and turned around only to see him pick up the books off floor.

"You don't have to do that," I said feeling awkward for letting him clean up my mess.

"We don't want you skydiving off that ladder again, do we now?" he winked and I blushed, nearly forgetting my question.

"How do you drink it? The coffee?"

"Black."

"Black. Okay." I backed up unable to take my eyes off of him, now only clad in a dark blue button-down shirt, untucked from his black jeans, the rolled-up sleeves showing off his toned lower arms, arms that had caught me. I hit a table of books behind me with my back and stumbled around before I could see his reaction at my unbearable clumsiness. Could I be any more spastic. I ran a hand through my hair to calm myself. Just coffee. I sighed. If it was just coffee then why was my heart trying to break through my ribcage, why was I feeling like one of those girls that dreamed to meet him and when they did they fainted at his feet. I rolled my eyes at people like that and now I was just as dazzled as them. Was this my punishment for years of sneering at groupies? I took the half full coffee pot and two cups and filled them to the rim. My thoughts were still trying to disentangle my feelings when I caught myself stirring creamer in both of the cups. I groaned. Great. Bella Swan can't even provide a simple cup of _black_ coffee. Why did I have to ruin everything? With a sigh I started a fresh pot.

I thought I heard voices and peeked around the corner. Perhaps Dave had finally resurfaced. Instead I saw Edward chatting with an elderly man. Mr. Henson, one of my faithful consumers. In my moment of trying to figure out the mess that was I, I had missed the ring of the little bell. He had saved me, he had cleaned up the books, he did not have to tend to my customers too. I walked to the front, hearing him laugh at something the man had said and couldn't help but feel curious at what that was.

"Hello, Mr. Henson," I greeted sending Edward an apologetic look, "what can I do for you today?"

The tips of the eighty-five-year-old's white whiskers curled up slightly as he smiled at me, his wrinkled hands gripping the walker tightly.

"I have come for some Dickens, Ms. Swan," he said much louder than necessary, "Ethel is in the hospital and I misplaced my _Oliver _somewhere. She likes it when I read to her and we were on page 36. But now it's gone." He sighed, "Maybe the nurses took it. They misplace everything. You know they even misplaced my wife at first. 243 said the doctor. 243. I remember! But then suddenly she was in 247. Ech…" He waved it off with his worn hand.

"Oh I'm sorry." I smiled sympathetically at his distress, "I hope your wife is alright."

"Oh she will be. Got her hip replaced." The decibels intensified, "She will be cruising the streets in no time. You'll see!" Again the moustache curled up and he let out a soft laugh, his nearly colourless blue eyes squinting lightly.

"That's good, I will get you a copy, Mr. Henson."

"What did you say, dear?" he asked leaning in.

"_I will get you a copy,_" I repeated louder, Edwards amused facial expression not going unnoticed. I retrieved two from one of the shelves and brought them back with me to the register.

"Would you like the paperback or the hardcover, Mr. Henson?" I asked.

"Oh my back is fine, dear. Just fine. There was a disco at the nursing home last week. This back and these hips, they can still sway," he winked.

I glanced at Edward who was now desperately trying to hold in his laughter and chuckled.

"_Which one of these do you like better?"_ I asked once more, raising my voice.

He pointed at the hardcover and I punched some numbers on the register.

"That will be $22,-." He handed me a fifty dollar bill and I swiftly handed him back the change and the book that I had now placed in a paper bag.

"Thank you, Ms. Swan," he said, dropping it in the basket attached to his walker and slowly turned it around before wheeling it towards the door.

"Hope your wife will be feeling better soon." I smiled. Edward got to the door before him and held it open. Mr. Henson stopped and glanced up at him.

"You are very tall, young man."

"Thank you." Edward chuckled. With a small wave Mr. Henson was out the door and Edward closed the door turning to face me and as I plunged into his green eyes, the bucket overflowed, the wave taking me with it. We laughed. We laughed till tears rolled over our cheeks.

"Oh God," Edward sniggered a last time wiping his eyes, "Are all of your customers like good ol' Mr. Henson?" I giggled clutching my stomach, that was now starting to cramp from all the laughing.

"Unfortunately not. Would make the world a much happier place."

Edward nodded taking in a deep breath, cleansing his being from the last of the hilarity. His beautiful eyes shimmered.

"He is peculiar, but very sweet," I said, "He and Ethel have been married for sixty seven years, you know. How many people can say that these days? I know my parent's can't."

"Your parents are divorced?" he asked. The gentle tone in which his words filled the room made me somewhat uncomfortable. It had never bothered me that they were divorced. After all I had been a baby. I had never blamed them. They would have probably killed each other off eventually, had they stayed together. At least my mother. Forks was just too small for her. But now _he _asked it in a careful tone, I couldn't help but feel some of the distress I should have felt years ago, if at all.

"When I was a baby, but I'm glad they did. Renee and Charlie: Two different worlds, constellations and constellations apart." I shrugged, wondering why I was telling him in the first place. I didn't need to bore him with the sad details of my uninteresting life.

"Sometimes it's just not meant to be, I suppose."

"Is it ever?" I wondered out loud, "It's a depressing thought that there is only one person out there that is perfect for you. What are the chances of finding that one person in a world with billions of people?"

He shrugged. "Small…but apparently Mr. Henson has his Ethel."

"They are from another time."

"My parents if you want a more recent example."

I huffed, unable to come up with a comeback. I remembered the interview from a couple of days ago, where he had spoken of his father, who had so fallen in love with his mother that he followed her to America. Still. I saw these cases as anomalies and one person always had to give up something to be with the other. In the end it left them bitter and disillusioned.

"I will get the coffee," I said.

"So how did you find me?" I asked upon my return, cradling the mugs in my hands. I was not in the mood to discuss the possibility of eternal love with him. It made me feel even more of a firefly than I already did. "I don't remember telling you where exactly I worked," I continued handing him one of the mugs, the fine hairs on my arm standing up as our skin touched briefly.

"Well that proved to be a challenging task. I looked at the yellow pages online. It found six Swans in Seattle. Two of them associated with the book business. One of them was called Kevin, the other Isabella. At that point I was starting to suspect that you had not told me the entire truth…"

I laughed at his theatrics, thankful that he let the previous matter rest.

"So you chose Kevin, eh? Brave."

He chuckled, glancing at me and having me drown in the vivid green pastures that were his eyes, surrounded by a dense forest of eyelashes that were almost unnaturally long for a man. I was certain I was not going to be able to avert my eyes from him in the near future, but the bell chime broke my stare.

"Hey," Dave greeted walking straight past us and continuing his stride to the back of the store.

"Hey," I greeted back staring after him and then at Edward who had a puzzled expression on his face.

"He works for me," I explained, "He doesn't say much."

"The strong silent type." Edward chuckled with a nod, "Am I keeping you from work?"

"No, no. It's a quiet day today." The words had barely left my mouth when the door opened and four women entered the store, chattering busily. I noticed how Edward leant his face in his hand. He did a very good job at making it look casual, but it felt like he was hiding.

"You can go sit in the back if you like," I said. From his hideout I could see the corner of his mouth pull up.

"It's fine. Your counter is like a wall," he said and opened one of the books behind the counter, "Go."

"Wouldn't you like to have my "curtain" now?" I asked with a smirk and he laughed softly at the reference to my hair and its function in situations of emergency.

"Very much," he replied, "Go, tend to your customers. I'll be fine here with…" He checked the cover, "Emily Bronte." It was a book I read when I wasn't working. I had read it a thousand times, if not more. It was worn and scruffy around the edges. I sighed and left him sitting behind the counter in the company of Emily and his cup of coffee.

After the four ladies had finally left the store a new set of customers entered, followed by a flushed Mrs. Kramer who argued with me that this was the wrong special edition for a good half hour till I nearly pushed her out the store. She came back twenty minutes later, apparently after having consulted with a "specialist" whom I assumed was her husband whose facial expression had gone from mildly unsettled to desperate during the time he waited for her to finish at the shop, and bought the book after all. Dave finished unpacking the boxes and I helped another couple of customers. All the while I threw glances Edward's way. He had to be bored out of his scull. I sighed and told Dave to deal with the next customer.

"Hey, I'm sorry I have abandoned you," I said sitting down next to him and biting my lip.

"Don't be silly." He smirked, "I'm just getting reacquainted with _Wuthering Heights._"

"And how is that going?" I asked, I saw that he had turned a fair amount of pages in my absence.

"Hmm. I don't think I gave it enough thought when I first had to read it in school."

"Was more into computer games?" I smiled.

"It's not that. It's just such a story of hate. It's the ultimate hate story in fact. Heathcliff held nothing human to me. But now, I don't know." He shrugged with a chuckle.

"I think that's the core of the debate about the novel." I smiled, "I've read it a thousand times and I am still not sure. It's just so…eerie and complex."

The corner of his mouth pulled up lightly as if he was enjoying an inside joke, before glancing at his watch.

"I ought to be going if I want to make it on time for dinner."

"Oh." I glanced at the clock. The hours had gotten away from me. It was almost five pm. I sighed.

"You can come with me if you like. For dinner I mean. I'm sure my mother won't mind. She always makes enough to feed a small country in Africa."

"I—" Part of me wanted to say yes, go with him without another thought, another part reminded me of an earlier obligation, "I can't. I need to close the store. And I sort of have plans with my friend already."

"Boyfriend?" he asked, leaning back in the chair. His voice was casual but his eyes burnt in mine in such a manner that I nearly jumped up at the question had I just been accused of the worst kind of treason.

"No!" I answered far too quickly, "No…" I cleared my throat to regain my equanimity, "Just my room mate… friend...girlfriend. My room mate who is my girlfriend…in the non lesbian kind of way…"

I started to suspect something was severely wrong with me and his laugh lightly tickling my ears did nothing to aid that feeling. I simply couldn't act normally around him.

"Another time?" he asked and I gazed up at him.

I nodded with a slight smile, "Yes. I'd like that." I glanced down to hide my blush.

"Call me," he said getting up.

"Okay." I nodded again.

He chuckled.

"I mean now. Call me. So I have your number."

"Oh!"

I dug out my outdated brick like mobile and searched for his number only to come up short.

"Shoot…I don't have you in my phone. I—the paper—I—" _threw it away_ "It got lost." "Can I then?" He reached out and I reluctantly placed my very unstylish phone in his hand.

"It's old and heavy and ugly, but it you know… can make calls," I mumbled pointing at it, whilst biting my lip. He smirked.

"Well…that's the most important thing. And you can use it as a weapon might you one day find yourself the victim of a mugging." He retrieved his phone as well – the sleek shiny black thing I had seen him use before. I stared at it as his fingers worked on the buttons of my device. His had not buttons. For a moment he smirked as if he had read my thoughts and I felt dense and archaic. Buttons were good. Buttons were there to be pressed. I sighed. How easy he pressed mine.

"There," he said pressing the call button and his button-deprived piece of glass and plastic lit up in a bright blue colour, buzzing in what almost looked as excitement at my call. He ended the call and game me back my phone.

"That's settled then." Edward smirked getting his coat and scarf, "If my niece won't murder this phone as well."

"You know where to find me then," I replied getting up as well.

"I do, don't I?" He wound the scarf a couple of times around his neck, not bothering to button his coat.

"Thank you for the coffee," he spoke with a smile.

"Any time," I said biting my lip, "Uhm, thank you for catching me."

"Any time." He flung my response back at me with a wink and I blushed.

"So, have a nice evening with your friend, Bella," he said and I dreaded the goodbye that would follow. His company—next to throwing me off my footing more times than it should be possible—was strangely enthralling and proved to have been for a much too short a time, "Bye."

"Bye." I gave him a small wave and watched him leave through the door, the little bell announcing his departure. I sighed and with difficulty focussed my attention on the woman talking to me.

"…and I looked online and it said you had it in storage? I would really like to take a look." I knit my eyebrows together trying to make sense of her words in my mind.

"Ehm…sure. One moment." I glanced out of the window one last time, as Edward jogged across the street to a silver car. It came to life, the lights shining brightly in the early November twilight, before it accelerated and turned a corner disappearing out of my sight.

* * *

I huffed as I reached the fourth landing and took in a gulp of well needed breath to climb the last two flights of stairs to my apartment. I cursed the damn elevator with every curse word ever invented and added a few originals. I was not a violent person, but I was contemplating leaving a horse's head in my landlord's bed. Deciding to take a little break, I opened my oversized bag and put my hand in it in search of my keys trying to aid the search with my eyes. I let out a shriek when my phone came to life under my fingertips. Fumbling with it I got it out and looked at the caller ID. _Edward_. My stomach galloped at the thought and I pressed the answering button with a shaking finger.

"H-hello?"

"_Bella! Seems that we have contact."_ His voice made my already trembling legs almost give out under me, I grabbed the balustrade for some extra support.

"We do," I said breathlessly, unsure whether it was my climb that left me breathless or his presence on the other side of the line.

"_I'm sorry to bother you. I couldn't resist the urge to do a test run."_

"That's okay." I bit my lip, fighting the urge to skip around and chant _He called me! He called me! He called me!_ Who would have thought that inside of me there was an overly annoying fan girl, desperate to get out. To channel my newly found energy I continued my ascend.

"_So… I don't want you to think that I am stalking you, which on second thought I absolutely am doing, but how does dinner sound tomorrow night? You name the time, place, you can even bring your friend if you like. Or is that too short a notice? It's too short a notice." _He sighed, his ramble sounded strangely nervous. For the briefest of moments the thought that he felt as outlandish around me as I did around him crossed my mind, but I shook it off. Why _would _he? It was not as if he had never asked a girl out. Nor did I imagine had he gotten a lot of rejections.

"It's not too short a notice." I chuckled then hit my forehead with my palm and sighed, "It's too short a notice. I sort of have a birthday party. But you can come with me if you like." I added quickly realising that it was as stupid as a stupid idea went.

"_Thank you for the offer, but it's uhm…too crowded. Really, don't take it personally… I'm just really—"_

"Famous," I finished for him and he chuckled.

"_It would just make things unnecessary difficult."_

"I understand. I didn't think." It was not entirely my fault. It was impossible to knit a coherent thought together with his breath lightly stroking my ear through the phone.

"_Oh I suppose we will coordinate something eventually." _

"How long will you be in Seattle?" I huffed finally reaching my floor and lingered in the hallway. Even with this turn of events, I rather let Angela overanalyze the little quandaries of her life instead of opening the box with mine. I was never going to live that one down.

"_In honest truth I don't know. Depends. Long enough to take you for dinner, I hope." _

My cheeks heated up and my heart picked up speed and I nearly shrieked when the door of the apartment flung open and a flushed Angela stuck her head into the hallway.

"I thought I heard your voice! What are you doing here?" she asked brushing her hair out of her face.

"I-uhm- I have to go," I said quickly, my voice holding a high pitched edge and my fingers ended the call before my brain could stop them. I could only hope Edward wasn't mad at me for just ending the call like that. God, I was juvenile! I felt as if my mother had just caught me half naked on the couch with a boy.

"My mom." I sighed pointing at the phone, when Angela raised her eyebrows and followed her inside.

"I bought a dress today for tomorrow's party. I hope Ben likes it. Cost me a fortune. Wanna see?"

"Uhm sure." I undid my coat and took off my shoes stalking after her. As she struggled with the flashy blue fabric I put my hand on my stomach trying to stop the fluttering sensation I was feeling. What was I? Sixteen? With a sigh I let myself fall on the bed. I sunk in the mattress and the soft pillows and after a little bounce came to a halt, but it did nothing to stop my insides from jittering. On the inside I was still falling.

Tumbling like Alice down the rabbit hole.

* * *

**AN: ****So this is it for now! Another generously sized chapter, that I hope you enjoyed. The next update might take a bit longer due to a bunch of finals I have to take and papers to finish writing. In the meantime, please make me a happy camper by leaving me some reviews! Pretty please! **


	4. Out of Tune

**AN: I was pleasantly surprised to see how many of you have put this story on alert (now I can track your every move muahahaha ;-) ). And I must thank you for the wonderful reviews! Keep it up :-) !!! This chapter is once again from Edward's POV and this is also the trend you should be expecting: a POV change every other chapter (don't know how it will play out in future chapters but it is working so far). What else… hmm. I got myself chocolate chip muffins and boy, are they good! Yeah, thought I'd share that. Okay, I shall cease my teasing and get on with it. Hope you like it and oh yes – I'm starting to sound like a broken record – don't forget to **_**review**_**! **

**Alverdine. **

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer.

* * *

_Chapter 4__: Out of Tune _

_-E-_

So many sounds. Sheets of rain being blown against the windows, a gust of wind knocking over something outside. It sounded hollow, plastic, probably a trashcan. Downstairs I could hear the dampened sound of the coffee bean grinder and the piano being molested by a two finger version of _Chopsticks._ Lily was staying over for a few days since Rosalie and Emmett had an out of state wedding to attend and the five year old was making her presence known. Someone ran past my door, judging from the cadence of steps it was Alice, as ever late for school.

In the ten days since my arrival it had almost become a routine, laying here in bed, trying to submerge into whatever slumber I could and listening to the sounds around me when I proved to be unable to do so. It had gone past me how many there were. I always had been under the impression that this house was so silent. It proved to be anything but. I sighed and tried to block out the monotone piano. _F/G. F/G. F/G. F/G. F/G. F/G. E/G. E/G. E/G. E/G. E/G. E/G. _The notes made my temples pulsate. If there was one annoying tune out there it was this._ C/E… D/E… D/F… _Each combination sounded more hesitant as she searched for the right one. A pause. Maybe she would give up now. I prayed she would, but my prayers were not heard. _F/G. F/G. F/G. F/G…_ She started again and I groaned, throwing the covers off and rolling out of bed. Yawning I stretched and padded out of my room barefoot. The moment I rid of the barrier that was my wall and door the sound intensified both in volume and dreadfulness. _E/G. E/G. E/G…_

Alice whooshed past me fighting her coat and shoes while she hurried down the stairs. Only she could whirlwind around like this without breaking her neck.

"Where are you off to?" I asked as she hopped on one leg trying to secure her boot.

"School! I'm so late for my history test! Wish me luck!" Then the slam of the front door echoed through the house and I was left standing in the vestibule, mouth agape mid-breath to reply. I closed it and shook my head, whilst Lily once again got stuck on her piece of work and tried out a few key combinations.

I strode into the room holding the baby grand and the preschooler torturing it, as she started the sequence of chords again. _F/G. F/G. F/G… _I couldn't help but chuckle. Lily was on her knees on the piano bench, tongue stuck out in concentration as she pressed the keys with two fingers. _E/G. E/G. E/G… _I came closer and straddled the bench just before she could press a wrong combination of notes again. I took her hands in mine, her tiny fists swallowed by my palms and placed her index fingers on the keys she was trying to find for over an hour now. _D/B. D/B. D/B. _she played and smiled radiantly when it finally made sense in her head.

"Lil' bear?" I heard my brother's roar just before he strode into the room and grinned.

"Morning there, Eddie!"

"Is it so hard to pronounce my name, Emmett?" I grumbled at the awful nickname.

"Don't be so gloomy, you'll get wrinkles, look peeved all the time, become an alcoholic and end up playing Bruce Banner's mentally unstable father. It happened to Nick Nolte, it could happen to you. In fact the likeliness between your appearance right now and his mug shot is striking." I raised my eyebrows at my brother's absurdity, his brown eyes sparkling with a perkiness I could not muster at this hour.

"No sense of humour what. so. ever." He sighed theatrically, coming closer and plucking Lily from her seat, "Did you tell Uncle Edward you were sorry for what happened to his phone?"

Lily, dangling in her father's strong arms, shook her head.

"I thought that was what we agreed upon at home. Apologise, young lady," he ordered, setting her down on the floor before me and I watched her as she stared at her feet, toes stuck in brightly striped pantyhose facing each other.

"I'm sorry…"she murmured.

"I can't hear you!" Emmett singsonged.

"I'm sorry!" Lily repeated louder, bottom lip protruding in an adorable pout.

"Apology accepted," I nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"Now you two can kiss and make up later, daddy has got to run," Emmett injected, crouching down and meeting his daughter on eyelevel, "Mommy and I will see you on Saturday. You be a good girl! Listen to grandma and grandpa and uncle Edward and auntie Alice, okay? On second thought…don't listen to auntie Alice." The girl nodded severely.

"Good girl. Now give me a kiss." The two exchanged a sound peck.

It was somehow both natural and strange to see Emmett Cullen in a father's roll. He did it with grace and I could only hope I was going be there for my kids _half_ as much as Emmett was there for his daughter. No one had thought about this five years ago. Rosalie had been just eighteen when she found out she was pregnant, still in school. Emmett was twenty and attending college on the east coast. Everything pointed in the direction of doom, tragedy and ruin, but it turned out to be as much true as any other apocalyptic doom-theory floating by. Somehow everything had worked out. It was even strange to imagine life without their little family now.

"Perk up, sunshine," Emmett boomed, "see you!"

"Yeah, yeah, bye." I yawned as the front door fell in its lock and I was left alone with my niece and a blissful silence. It didn't last for long. _F/G. F/G. F/G… _I needed coffee, lots of it. With that as my concluding thought I got up and made my way to the kitchen accompanied by Lily's virtuoso performance. _E/G. E/G. E/G…_ This was going to be a long day.

* * *

My manager was Superwoman. She could be two places at once, do ten things at a time. She always got her way and with it mine. I suppose my life would be much more complicated did I not have Lauren standing in the wings, her blackberry as ever plastered to her ear. But what I appreciated most about her –and why it didn't hurt _as _much to transfer fifteen percent of my earnings to her bank account- was that she was always honest with me. No pretences, no lies. She told me everything as it was. In my world trust comes at a high price and I was willing to pay it to have Lauren as my sidekick. Nevertheless, the truth wasn't always what I wanted to hear and sitting here, my phone to my ear, listening to her planning my schedule made me feel like a kid not wanting to do his homework. I watched Lily from the corner of my eye colouring on the floor. My mother was called away for an emergency at the museum, where she worked as a curator and seeing that no one else was present I was promoted to baby sitter. So far, so good. Dared I say we had bonded, once I had managed to get her away from that piano.

"_So did you read any of the scripts I sent you?"_ Lauren asked. On the background I could hear her fingers frantically dancing on the keyboard of her computer.

"I—yeah, I leafed through a couple." I glanced at them sitting on my desk. Today they felt like my trigonometry books had felt five years ago.

"_And?"_

"And…Nothing. I don't know." I shrugged. She had sent me six. I had globally read three. They were all as Lauren had already pointed out capable of becoming a success. The storylines epic, the characters grand. It seemed all I had to do was show up. It didn't stir much in me.

"_What don't you know? I set up auditions for you. I really think you should do _the Battle_. A war drama is just what your career needs."_

"Maybe…" I sighed.

"_Maybe? __Maybe doesn't get you movie parts. What's the matter with you?"_

"Nothing, I'm just tired. If you haven't noticed I have been on the go ages now. Constantly. I need a break."

"_You _are_ on a break. I can book you a ticket to Hawaii. Hell, I can rent an island for you. It is _you_ who of all places ends up in rainy depressing Seattle. You said you want November off. I made sure you have November off. What else do you want me to do?"_

I furrowed my brow and stared at my phone for a moment. I didn't want her to do anything. I simply wanted… what _did _I want? I had no clue. I smiled at Lily who was now holding a drawing in front of my nose. The pink blob with pointy tips reminded me of a bubble gum bubble gone wrong. I cocked my head to look at it from another angle. It still didn't make sense. Maybe it was abstract.

"It's not Seattle and I don't need an island. I just… never mind," I sighed. I couldn't explain it to myself. How was I supposed to explain to Lauren? "I will read _the Battle._ I have to go, I'm looking after my niece today."

"_Fine. Go. And next time I talk to you I don't want you to sound as down in the dumps. You are not__ shovelling sulphur in a volcanic crater mine in Indonesia for $6 a day." _

"Been watching National Geographic again?" I smirked, but realised she had a very valid point. I _didn't _have to slave away in a mine. I could make more than decent living by something much easier, and so much more desired. I was looking my horse in the mouth. No, I was looking my _unicorn _in the mouth. I grimaced. Was I becoming the cliché celebrity brat?

"Do you like it?" Lily inquired. I blinked bidding Lauren goodbye and tossed my phone on the bed.

"I—yes. It's very pretty," I stammered pulling her in my lap, "Uhm…what is it exactly?"

"It's an octopus!" she exclaimed. Of course. An octopus. Silly me.

"See?" she continued, "that's its belly." She pointed at the blob.

"I see. I see." I nodded looking over her shoulder.

"And that's its testicles. An octopus has eight!" She glanced back at me with a radiant smile, seemingly proud of herself to be able to provide me with such…_colourful_ information. I opened my mouth, eyebrows lifted in perplexity.

"Right… you mean _tentacles._" There was no way I could look at an octopus the same way ever again.

"That's what I said. And that's a jellyfish." Lily pointed at a bluish manifestation in the right corner of the paper. I nodded again. Hopefully the jellyfish was not an anatomical freak.

"It's dead!" she exclaimed. Even better. I was starting to suspect that children's minds were a strange thing, or – and this point maybe more likely since my study involved only one specimen – that my niece's psyche was.

"Mommy and I were at the beach and there was a dead jellyfish and I poked it with a stick and it was icky!"

"In China they make soup out of them," I winked.

"Ew! Dead jelly fish soup!" She scrunched her nose, her tongue hanging out of her mouth in abhorrence, "Did you eat it?"

"Dead jelly fish soup?" I asked and she nodded, "No, no…I'm not that brave. I stick to peanut butter sandwiches. Speaking of which, I think we should have some lunch, what do you say?"

"Can I have waffles?" Waffles. I wasn't much of a cook. My mother had done a thorough and delicious job at feeding me for the first eighteen years of my life and in the past five I had done fine living off room service, catering and the occasional dining out. This had not done wonders for my own culinary skills however, and now I was requested to make waffles.

"Uhm…okay, but we need to do some research first."

* * *

The basic waffle recipe is the foundation of every hungry man's waffle arsenal. Or at least that is what waffle-recipe dot com wanted us to believe. Nevertheless, basic or not, it was still a mission and we were nothing if not prepared. The kitchen was transformed to quite a literal battlefield. The recipe stuck to one of the cupboards with duct tape a pile of ingredients were sitting on the counter.

"Final check up!" I ordered fixing the pan Lily insisted I wear on my head in the process, "All purpose flour!"

"Check!" Lily replied glancing up at me from under the colander functioning as _her_ helmet.

"Very good. Whole-wheat flour! Check." I glanced at my list again, Lily's legs swinging back and forth from the counter, "Eggs."

"Check!" Lily yelled.

"Milk."

"Check."

"Sugar."

"Check!"

"Baking powder." I let my eyes wander over the products on the counter and frowned when I could not locate it. "Baking powder?" I opened a few cabinets, but found nothing that resembled baking powder. "How essential is baking powder in a waffle recipe?" I asked my niece who shrugged as a response.

"I don't know."

"Let's call grandma." I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialled Esme's number, winking at Lily as I put it to my ear. It rang and rang till I was connected to her voicemail. I sighed putting the cell phone away again.

"Grandma is missing in action." I mumbled, automatically bringing my hand to my hair and hitting my knuckles on the steel surface of the pan instead. Lily roared with laughter, a deep booming sound that reminded me of a little bear. No wonder Emmett called her lil' bear. I smirked.

"Thought that was funny, huh?" The whisk in my hand lightly tapped the colander on her head and produced a metallic bang. The laughing intensified and I couldn't help but chuckle myself. Her bubbly personality sure was infectious. With a sigh I turned around to inspect my list. _2 teaspoons of baking powder._ I rubbed my chin. 2 teaspoons. That sounded quite dispensable. Oh what the heck, we were feeling adventurous as it was. I quickly found a mixing bowl, fixing my eyes on the recipe once more. This was going to be a walk in the park. _Step 1._

All was well till step 4. The "throw-everything-in-a-bowl-and-start-mixing" part sounded simple and yet proved to be anything but as egg yolks and milk were orbited into space. I yelped jumping back, the mixer still gyrating in my hand. Lilly's booming laughter echoing amidst the chaos.

"Not funny!" I exclaimed, whilst wiping batter from my eye. To add fuel to the turmoil the doorbell hollered and I hoped to God it was my mother who had forgotten her keys. I was just _not_ the muffin man, or in this scenario the waffle man. Grabbing a tea towel I made my way to the door, wiping my shirt as I went. The sticky residue seemed to be everywhere. I was almost there when the baritone clang of doorbell chimed again and I quickened my pace, yanking open the door in one fluent motion. My eyebrows rose when I found myself staring in the hazel eyes of Jasper Hale: my comrade, confidant, brother in arms, ever since he sat down next to me in first grade. And yet, I was surprised to find him at my door for of my several calls throughout the week he had answered nor returned one. It was almost as if he didn't want to see me, was avoiding me for one reason or another. He nearly jumped back at the sight of me.

"Jasper!" I didn't know what else to say, but to call out his name in most evident surprise. For I was indeed, surprised. And he, too seemed to be. He stared at me as if he had expected anyone but me to open the door.

"Edward. Hi! I uh… I came for-" He cut off his sentence and cleared his throat, his eyes shifting away from mine uneasily and he took a deep breath, "Haven't seen you in a long time." I raised my eyebrow. What had gotten into the man? For someone who was usually oozing charisma he looked positively deranged. He looked as if of all the people pulling open this door, I was the last on the list. Had he expected Carlisle? Or Esme? I couldn't imagine why he would have been expecting my parents to answer the door. Last I checked he hadn't formed a friendship with my father. I couldn't really see him coming over here for beer, pretzels, and a baseball game with Dr. Cullen, nor did he share my mother's passion of gardening.

"Yeah, it's been long," I said, his rigid stance made me feel odd and subconsciously the suspicion that he was avoiding me became confirmed, "Come in?" I stepped out of the doorway and waited for him to enter. The doubt was more than evident in his auburn eyes.

"Uhm…yeah, sure," he then said before stepping inside the house as if it was surrounded by dungeons and moats and had a fire breathing dragon sitting in the living room. I followed him with furrowed eyebrows, desperately trying to figure out what was eating him.

"I was making waffles for Lily," I said leading the way into the kitchen, "Or well…attempting to is perhaps a better word." I glanced back and saw his mouth twitch into a smile. It was one of those forced smiles one gave a person when his or her joke hadn't really been funny. I furrowed my brow. I knew I was lacking comedy skills, but Jasper had never felt the need to synthesise a mood for me. It felt strangely unnerving. Something was out of place and at the moment it seemed to be me.

"Uncle Jasper!" Lily bounced at the sight of her uncle and dove off the counter, straining my reflexes to the limit as I reached out for her, trying to prevent her from falling.

"Be careful, Lily," I mumbled as she wiggled out of my grip and flew into Jaspers arms.

"Hey there Lily bear!" Jasper flashed his pearly whites scooping her up.  
"Uncle Edward is making me waffles!" Lily declared proudly.

"Oh really? Well lucky you. I see that is going over…well." He glanced around the battlefield that was the kitchen, covered in flour and egg residue, milk dripping from the counter and a five year old with smudges of waffle batter on her clothes, face and in her hair on his hip. His eyes met mine in a brief moment of amusement and I shrugged leaning against one of the few clean spots of counter, the malicious mixer laying next to me in all innocence.

"So…" I started stretching the o as he set Lily back on the counter, "How have you been?"

Jasper straightened up, clearing his throat, his hazel eyes fixed on the sink. He seemed to search for words, his gaze shifting over the room once, twice, avoiding my eyes as it went. It was all so confusing. If he didn't want to talk to me then why would he have come to my house? He surely had to know I was staying here. I had left him several messages.

"I'm fine." He gave a little nod to emphasise his answer. _Fine._ I pressed my lips together as another piercing silence set was ridiculous. I was sharing a space with my best friend. My best friend for almost twenty years. What the hell was going on? Had something happened in my absence? Something bad I didn't know about? My eyebrows knit together as my mind continued its wild goose chase.

"How uhm are _you_? I heard the new movie was great." I opened my mouth, then shut it again. Who gave a damn about that movie? I was staring at the man that was supposed to be my best friend and was acting like a complete stranger. I could handle change. I could handle Carlisle's silver hair, or Alice' new hairdo. I could handle Emmett and Rose having a five year old. It was something I regretted slipping past me during my departure, but it was something I could fathom. I could not, however, handle someone I loved like a brother desperately trying to find the nearest exit just because I was in the room.  
"I'm _fine_." I threw his reply back, "It seems we are both fine…"

"Ok, I can't do this," Jasper sighed, "Edward… we…need to talk." He finally met my gaze and it was awfully serious. I raised my eyebrows, partly thankful he quit pussyfooting about, party afraid of what he was going to say.

"Okay...spill."

"I want you to promise me you wont overreact," he told me never breaking my stare as if trying to hypnotise me into submission.

"Overreact about what?" I squinted my eyes. I didn't like to sign without reading the small print. I never have and I wasn't about to start now.

"Just…do," he let out a grave sigh his hands disappearing in the pockets of his jeans, "You will flip." He mumbled the last part and I let out an exasperated sigh.

"_Tell _me already! I don't know if you noticed, but I can't read minds. How bad can it be?" I shrugged, trying to encourage him into opening his mouth already. He was driving me up the wall with this stalling.

"Do you remember what I described to you as being my perfect woman?" He glanced away and I couldn't help but smirk at his evident embarrassment. Since when was Jasper Hale embarrassed around me?

"I'm sorry, Jasper. Connections or not. Angelina Jolie is still taken, so I can't help you there."

He looked at me, begging with his brown eyes for me to be serious.

"I'm sorry, continue. Angelina Jolie. I remember."

"Yeah…so… I suppose I realised that perhaps Angelina was _not_ the person that it would take for me to…" he paused, "fall in love."

"That's it? You're in love?" I grinned out of relief, "Good grief you idiot! I thought you had a life threatening brain tumour at the least." He didn't laugh with me and I frowned, "There is more." I concluded, "What? You secretly got hitched?"

"No, not exactly…"

"Can you please stop being so cryptic?"

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes as if preparing himself to be shot, "It's your sister."  
My jaw dropped and I blinked as to wake up for this had to be a dream. Or maybe I was being _Punk'd. _

"What?" I asked him incredulously my voice rising in to a high pitch, "This is _Alice_ we are talking about? Alice Cullen?"

"I don't know, Edward, how many sisters do you have?" he deadpanned, clearly frustrated.

"Well… God! What do you want me to say? That you are out of your mind? That is clearly obvious." I paced around the cooking island. Of _all_ the people in the world! "Does she know?" I then wondered glancing at my crazy friend. He stared at his shoes biting his lip.

"Sort of…"

"Sort of?" I glared at him, a strange feeling nestling in my stomach. And suddenly everything clicked. It was almost audible. As if someone flipped a switch in my head. Everything all at once made sense. Alice' disappearances for hours if not nights at an end, her hickey, the rest of my family evading all of my questions. It all made sense and at the same time it didn't. I felt like a blind man trying to grasp the concept of colour. How did this happen? When? _Why_? _Why_ of all the people in the world did he have to have my sister?

"How long has this been going on?" I asked staring at him as if he had grown a second head in the past seconds. So many questions. My mind was swirling with them. There was a big gaping hole of delusion.

"Since June…" Jasper replied softly and despite the placid tone, it hit me like a ton of bricks. _June. _Five months. And here I thought my best friend and I shared things, as did my sister and I. I shook my head meeting his gaze, demanding an explanation with my stare. My mind was too muddled to produce a coherent sentence.

"We should have told you sooner," Jasper sighed, "_much _sooner, but you have to understand that this is a somewhat strange situation and we wanted to see if it would work, before we would pull others in it. Had it not, it would have just been something between her and me and no one would have to overcomplicate it. I know it…" he sighed, "Had it been the other way round I would be pissed off as well. I don't blame you. I blame myself mostly for giving in to Ali's wish to wait till the right moment to tell you. There is none. The further we got, the harder it got. That's why I haven't returned your calls. I can't look you in the eye and lie." I flinched at the pet name. _Ali._ It sounded beyond surreal rolling from Jasper's lips.

"You just did," I told him, my jaw fixing. Twenty years of built up trust were suddenly hanging on a thread.

He winced at my words.

"You know Alice. She hates upsetting people. Especially you. She is afraid of your reaction. I am, too. I wish you would yell at me already," he smirked briefly then turning serious again, "I can't apologise to you for loving her, but I apologise for the rest."

My anger sat in my throat in the form of a burning lump and prohibited me to speak. I swallowed searching for words to form a reply and found it hard. There were few things that surprised me these days. I thought I had seen most of the craziness. Be it crazy fans, crazy paparazzi, or crazy colleagues. Behind the scenes Hollywood could be very unflattering, the glamour replaced by ugliness. It was something I had gotten used to. It had knocked the little naivety I had right out of me. Or so I thought. This was something I had not seen coming. Not by a long shot. She was my annoying baby sister we tried to avoid as much as possible and even when we had outgrown our "girls have cooties phase" Jasper had never really been fond of Alice. Nor the other way round. Remarks and solid objects would frequently fly to and fro. I shook my head again and drew in a deep breath ready to speak. Or so I thought.

All of a sudden Alice was standing in the kitchen, glancing to Jasper then to me again and back to Jasper. Her eyes were wide as if she knew that I knew, the umbrella in her hand dripping on the tiles.

"You _told_ him?!" she then cried out in a hushed yet sharp voice, splaying her arms in vexation. Jasper sighed and nodded, "I can't believe you. I asked you to wait till the right moment. So we could do it _together_!" She ran a hand through her hair and my anger grew. I refused to stand here and listen to them talk about me like some obstacle, as if I weren't present in the room in the first place. I walked past them, my steps wide and directed towards the stairs.

"Edward!" I heard Alice call as I jogged up the steps two at a time and strode through the hallway. I had to get out of this madness. Out of this house. I needed to clear my head, sort through my thoughts. _Room. Keys. Coat. Door._ Following my plan I did just that. I threw open the door of my room, quickly locating my car keys on the desk and nearly bumped into Alice on my way out.

"Edward…" Her voice was pleading now, but I chose to block it out. To block _her_ out, like she had done with me. I walked around her and back down the stairs, pulled open the front door and stepped into the rain, the wet pebbles on the driveway crunching under the soles of my shoes as I trotted towards my Volvo. I slammed the car door shut behind me, the rain beating down on the steel of the roof and the glass of the windshield. Then the key disappeared in the ignition and the engine smoothly roared to life, settling into a purr that soothed some of my nerves. My foot set on the gas-pedal and I spurred it mercilessly, nearly leaving my gearbox in the driveway as I sped into the street.

* * *

I drove around aimlessly, windshield wipers sweeping back and forth, trying to keep up with the sheets of rain blowing from all directions. I felt betrayed. My sister and my best friend were together. Even worse, everyone seemed to know and be okay with it, but me. Could they blame me? After all, they didn't exactly give me time to get used to the idea. I scoffed. As if I would ever get used to the idea. The idea of him _touching _her. I wasn't naïve enough to think that they were not sleeping together. I shuddered at the thought. Any attempt to put this in perspective failed. I tried to tell myself that she was nineteen, a grown woman, and if it were not Jasper it would be somebody else. The thought was not as comforting as I had liked. I _knew_ Jasper. I knew about the girls he had been with and the girls he wanted to be with. And the fact that I knew he had a thing for red lace did _nothing_ to sooth my already overactive imagination. As far as I was concerned he had branded my sister and that was a repulsive thought.

I never noticed how exactly I ended up in front of Bella's bookstore. It had been a week since our meeting at this place, since we last talked in person, since she hung up on me. There had been some text messages back and forth but nothing more. She initiated them, which both made me happy and curious as to why she seemed so reluctant to call me, speak to me. And that reluctance had held me back from calling _her. _I felt like I had been stalking her and decided it was best to give her some space, let her come to me. And yet, here I was again. On her doorstep. I sighed glancing at the windows. The lights were on and I could see people inside, however vague due to the streams of rain and the distance. For a moment I thought I recognised her but it could have been anybody. She was busy. I better not call her. My fingers didn't correspond with my brain, however and before I knew it the phone was ringing, the methodical whooshing of the wipers providing a background ensemble.

"Hello?" Her voice alone seemed to provide a soothing balm for my ailments. I smiled.

"Can I steal you for a cup of coffee?" I asked matter of factly, all protocol for a polite phone conversation forgotten.

"Today?" She wondered.

"Yes."

"Uhm… okay. When?"

"Now?" I asked and shook my head. She should just blow me off. I deserved to be blown off.

"Now?" She echoed.

"Yes, I'm right outside. Look out the window. Silver car." I saw a figure near the window and peer outside. I couldn't help but chuckle as she cast me a small wave. It was silent for a while. I could almost see her biting her lip, her eyebrows knitting together as she thought.

"Okay. Do you want to come in?" I sighed from relief.

"No. I want you to come with me. I will have you back in no time. I promise. I just really need some-… coffee." Better not pour all my life's tribulations down her neck just yet.

"I'll be right out." With that she hung up and I fought the urge to bounce in my seat. It wasn't long before I saw her run through the puddles hunched over, holding a jacket above her head. I leant across the passenger seat to get the door and she hopped in, slightly out of breath, raindrops on her beautiful face and in her hair. The door shut with a clout, simultaneously shutting out the street sounds. It was just me, her and the whooshing of the wipers.

"Hello," I smiled.

"Hey," Bella smiled back ridding her face from the water with her sleeve.

"Put your seatbelt on," I instructed steering my eyes to the road and pushing the gas pedal as Bella fidgeted with the clasp of the belt. She folded her hands in her lap once she was strapped in and steered her gaze outside, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. She always seemed so … uncomfortable around me. Reluctant. It made me feel like I was too forward, even though I didn't have an agenda, I simply enjoyed her company…_ a lot. _Perhaps too much. In the end, where could this go? I was on the move the whole time. She had a business in Seattle. She came across like a very private person, and my life was anything but. I glanced her way briefly. And yet, her sitting next to me in silence instilled me with both a feeling of deep calm, and strange edginess, and the mere sound of her voice was enough to put a smile on my face. Such trivial things.

"How have you been?" I asked to break the silence, more so to make her at ease than myself. I was perfectly content with simply her presence.

"Good," she nodded with an uneasy smile, "I'm good. You?" I caught a glimpse of the fingers of her hands molesting each other, twisting and turning in her lap. If the police would pull me over they would surely have to think she was here against her will. All that was missing was a gun to her head. I sighed, willing my mind to contemplate an answer to her question. I didn't know her well enough to drop my problems on her, but it felt so childish to lie as well. I didn't say anything focussing my attention on a red Ford that cut me off and forced me to stand on the breaks.

"God damn it. Learn to drive!" I mumbled changing lanes. "Sorry." I then sighed glancing at her.

"It's okay," she shook her head, "Where are we going?"

"Uhm. Any ideas? Somewhere quiet?" She bit her lip again, her eyebrows knitting together while she thought and a crease settling over her forehead. Bella seemed to think with her whole being instead of just her head. It made me smile.

"Beach Café at the Point?" She then offered, her face relaxing into its beautiful soft self, "The weather is awful. Good chance it will be deserted."

She was probably right. It was no weather to go for a walk and it was still early. The dinner reservations were not going to show up just yet. I smirked. "The beach it is."

* * *

The café was indeed deserted. Every booth apart from one on the other side of the dining room was empty. Aside from the rain being whipped against the windows and the soft music in the background it was quiet. It was perfect. I held the door open for Bella and she looked at me funnily, mumbling a thank you while her gaze shifted towards the floor. I furrowed my eyebrows, starting to suspect that she had never been treated like a lady and perhaps that was why she just couldn't accept a compliment, or a gesture as simple as this. I put my hand on the small of her back gently guiding her towards the back of the establishment. For a moment her pace picked up and my palm disconnected from her body. I let it dangle next to my body purposelessly, following her. She didn't like to be touched. I wondered whether it was in general or just me. She had after all held my hand on the plane. Again I found myself frustrated with the fact that I couldn't read her.

We reached our table and she slid in the booth, folding her coat next to her. I mirrored her action. Her sudden change of mood made me frown. Her eyes danced with warmth and amusement, her lips pulled up in the most wonderful smile.

"Where have you been?" she asked and I furrowed my eyebrows, lost in translation. What did she mean?

"Your shirt." She nodded in my direction, as if she had plucked the question right out of my head. I looked down and saw the stains on the grey garment. I chuckled.

"I was making waffles at home. Some mechanical problems with the mixer," I explained, "I suppose I left in kind of a hurry."

"Could have been worse. You could have been naked." My eyebrows lifted in surprise as her cheeks filled with crimson and she hid her face in her hands mumbling something unintelligible. I just could _not_ figure her out. It was mixed signal after mixed signal. A lot of time to think about it I did not get as a bubbly blond waitress bounced up to us and didn't stop bouncing even when she came to a halt.

"Oh ehm wow hi!" The girl turned bright red and got trapped in a fit of giggles, "Huge fan! Ehm… I'm Melissa."

"Hello, Melissa," I chuckled.

"Hi!"

"Hi…"

"I just can't believe you're here! Are you real?" Another string of hyper giggles filled the air. I glanced at Bella to see if she was freaked out by this. After all, she hadn't seen anything yet. Even if she had, being in the middle of it, was an entirely different ordeal. She was seemingly preoccupied with the study of her hands on the table and when she did glance up she blushed again, her dark eyes darting away from mine as if my gaze had burnt her.

"I suppose that depends on your perception of reality," I then replied with a polite smile, well knowing that she would probably start giggling again. She didn't disappoint.

"Ehm, Melissa, was it?" It felt rude to interrupt but I didn't want her to rob me of my time with Bella, who was still plucking at her fingers and observing. Even though she wasn't looking she was always observing, "Could we have a couple of menu's and coffee for me and—" I glanced at Bella who briefly nodded, "Two coffees."

"Yeah!" She let out a nervous laugh.

"Thank you." I smiled, my eyes hinting that she really had to move her feet in order to perform that task. Eventually she seemed to take the hint and I sighed.

"I'm sorry about that."

Bella shook her head with a smile, her gaze shifting outside over the endless lake, daunting and beautiful at the same time as the wind splashed sheets of water around and a silence set in. Normally silence was fine by me, but now, with each quiet second that past I felt the increasing urge to bounce my knee or tap my fingers against the table. Instead I ran my digits through my hair, letting them linger; pluck and twist. I was so engaged in this, staring before me but not seeing, sunk in thoughts about everything today, that I didn't notice that Bella's gaze shifted and she was eyeing me with a smile on her face.

"Huh? Did you say something?" I asked, unsure why I did, I knew she hadn't.

"No," she chuckled, "I was just observing. Now I know why your hair is such a mess all the time. Molest it as you do I'm surprised you still _have _hair at all."

"I—it's a habit." I lowered my hand and let out a sigh.

"I noticed."

"You notice a lot of things, don't you?" It was more an observation than a question.

"I like watching people." She shrugged, lifting her small shoulder a fraction and pressed her lips together.

"Me too," I smiled, "What do you see?"

She blinked, brow furrowed, her lip disappearing between her teeth again as she shook her head lightly.

"What do you see when you look at me?" I clarified. She gasped lightly a crimson creeping up her cheeks. I hadn't meant for her to be embarrassed nor did I seek confirmation that I was good-looking. I was simply curious as to how she saw me, as I found it exceptionally difficult to discern her thoughts.

"Never mind," I smirked shaking my head and put my hands on the table so I could keep an eye on them. I took the task quite literally. It gave me something to do.

"You look tired." Her voice compelled me to look at her. Her warm soft eyes were laying on me and it felt almost as if she was touching my physically, "And I think something is bothering you. You're tense. Kind of look out of tune. I don't know," she shrugged again, reddening slightly.

I stared at her in surprise. _Out of tune. _Just like that, she had voiced a feeling I was trying to name ever since I came home, a feeling that was almost unbearable today.

"Never mind. Just…forget what I said," Bella shook her head seemingly grateful that the waitress returned with our coffees and the menus. Mellissa loitered for a little while. I registered her presence in the corner of my eye, but did not give her much thought as I watched Bella intently, her nose now hidden in her menu.

"I don't want to forget what you said." I didn't. I wanted to hear more.

In my line of work, and more importantly in my line of fame, scrutiny was as part of day to day life as the cup of coffee in the morning. Everything was analysed, from the underwear I wore to why I was walking on the left side of the road instead of the right, the things I ate and drank, the women I went out with, and didn't go out with. Every time I jaywalked in my life was probably accurately archived. For in my past they dug too. And the fact that there was not much to find - both in my past and in my present – never formed a hindrance. Semantics was as much of a delight as it was a horror. Thus, it was refreshing to hear something that made sense. Even better, something that made me see sense.

She was looking at me now. From the way her lips parted and then connected again, I figured she didn't know what to say or perhaps whether to say something or not in the first place.

"I _have _been feeling out of tune lately." I smiled at the phrasing. At how perfectly it fit, "And today it was sort of an accumulation of discords."

"You don't get along with your family?" she asked and bit her lip, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be nosy."

I smirked then shook my head. I wished she would stop walking on her toes around me. Relax.

"If you cross a line I will tell you. As for my family. No. Yes. I don't know." I sighed, "Everything is just so different since I was last here and then the time before that. There are some things that are natural, expected, things that I can accept. Others I can't put my finger on. It's different and I don't know why. It frustrates me. _Then_ there are the things that just… make me run out of the house with waffle batter all over my shirt." I sighed, some of the heaviness in my lungs riding out on my breath as I did. I was strangely comfortable with telling her this, even whilst hardly knowing each other. Even though I shared my life with as few people as possible. Even though a part of me screamed that I was going to get bitten in the ass by this in the long run. Despite all this I somehow honestly trusted her.

The big "why" was hanging in the air, dangling in between us from the ceiling, like Damocles' sword. Bella didn't say anything. She just sat there, cradling the mug in her pale hands, waiting for me to continue.

"Do you have siblings, Bella?" I asked her. That would certainly make it easier to imagine. She shook her head. I pressed my lips together. I would have to do without the visual then.

"I have two. An older brother and a younger sister, which per definition makes Emmett and me overprotective, overbearing big brothers." Bella chuckled. "Since Emmett went to college it was down to the two of us, so _my _job to keep an eye on her. We got very close in those two years. Now we keep in touch through phone and email mostly. That way I'm still sort of part of her life. Or well so I thought, because today I found out that she has been seeing my best friend – my best friend since first grade - for close to half a year. And somehow it slipped both their minds to inform me about this. Not to mention that this is," I searched for the right word, "_disturbing_ to begin with." I left out the fact that I felt like a total idiot, that everyone knew and was fine with it but me, that all I got to show for it was a lame ass apology. With each syllable leaving my mouth I felt more reluctant to continue, more so because I didn't want to formulate this into words, so out in the open, than anything else.

"I'm sorry." Her lips turned up into a sympathetic smile. Now she thought I was a charity case. I sighed.

"Did you pick anything yet?" I asked picking up my menu and studying it to steer my train of thoughts towards appetizers and soups instead of upsetting sibling-best friend relations.

"The crème brulée," Bella answered decisively, "I love the little "crack" sound when you hit the shiny caramelised layer with the back of the teaspoon." Instantly the corners of my mouth curled up.

* * *

A silky smooth crème brulée and a plate of delicious waffles later we drove back to Bella's store. Time had slipped away from us even though we enjoyed our food in silence for the utmost part. I had watched how she broke through the golden brown toffee and how her eyes lit up at the little "crack" sound it made. It was like watching Bella's playful inner child and she lifted my mood by simply sitting across from me. She didn't question me further, for which I was grateful, as I was, too, for listening to what I _did_ get off my chest.

"Thank you for this afternoon," I told her, the Volvo parked in front of the book store. Her eyebrows furrowed in surprise.

"For what? You didn't even let me pay for myself." Silly Bella.

"For letting me steal you," I explained. She blushed slightly at my words, a soft cerise dancing on the alabaster of her cheeks, "Have dinner with me Friday. I heard there is a great new Italian place."

Again that conflicted look flashed over her beautiful face, the reluctance, but she surprised me with a little nod, "I'd like that."

I could not suppress my grin.

"So… I will pick you up at seven?"

Bella bit her lip and I wondered what it was she was debating. She surely couldn't have a problem with me picking her up at her house. I was wrong.

"Perhaps it's better that I meet you there," she then replied.

"Bella, if you don't want to go…" I was dying to take her out, but I couldn't watch her act like I made her watch someone skinning kittens. I'd rather have she simply told me she didn't want to have anything to do with me then.

"No! No!" I suppressed the urge to flinch. She didn't have to be _this _complaisant. "I do!" Her fingers curled around my wrist as she looked me in the eye apologetically. My skin tingled. "I just have a room mate who is very… She adores you. It's just…weird. So… I'd rather avoid that." She explained and I let out a sigh of relief and of frustration with myself and with who I was, "for now." She added after a few moments.

I pulled up the corner of my mouth in a half-hearted smile.

"I will text you the address." Bella nodded with a reprieved smile.

"I will see you Friday then." Her hand let go of my wrist, leaving it somehow naked and set on the door handle.

"You will," I smiled and then she was gone.

* * *

"Is there something wrong with your food?" my mother's placid voice pulled me back from my pensiveness. I stopped pricking my tuna and glanced at her sitting athwart from me. Dad was on call and that meant that it was the four of us or better said two against one and a half. Esme was clearly supporting Alice in this. My sister sat next to her, rolling the peas on her plate from one side to the other and throwing me glances. I ignored her best as I could, but it was hard to pretend she was not in the room. Despite her size, Alice Cullen was almost impossible to disregard. Lily bounced in her seat next to me and dropped another pea on my plate. I couldn't be bothered to tell her to eat them herself.

"No, it's delicious, mom," I replied.

"Just give it time, hon," she then said and that was the end of my appetite. I excused myself dropping my napkin on the table and made my way upstairs, to the reclusiveness of my room. I draped myself over the chaise and stared at the ceiling, before briefly closing my eyes. I wished my father was home. Carlisle and I perhaps didn't always share the same opinions but we definitely shared a wave length. He was probably one of the few people that could intricately understand me. Next to that, he was a master in making me see reason where there seemed to be none and I wished he were here so I could vent.

A soft knock compelled me to open my eyes again and I sighed, knowing very well who was on the other side of the door.

"No!" I shouted also very well knowing it was not going to stop her. Why couldn't she just leave me alone? The door handle moved down and the door opened a fraction. A slender hand with on its palm balancing a cupcake drifting in through the opening.

"I come bearing peace offerings," she singsonged before sticking her head through the door, "Is it safe to come in? Oh good. You are not shooting daggers just yet… before you do. I must add: your favourite butter cream frosting." She waved her hand to emphasise her point and stepped in the room. I didn't laugh. This would have made up for her taking my car without asking and getting me a parking ticket. It did not make up for lying to me for months. She sighed lowering her hand and pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry, Edward."

"You're sorry for what?" I wondered, "For not telling me? For doing it in the first place? Or for me finding out?"

She neared me, head hanging and placed the pastry next to me on the little table, before proceeding to sit on the bed.

"I'm sorry that doing this in the first place is weird for you and I'm sorry for not telling you sooner and I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did. I just didn't know _how_ to tell you. Believe me it was weird for me too. It's _Jasper_ for heaven's sake."

I rolled my eyes. Was she seriously projecting this on herself now?

"Could you at least have the decency to let me sulk? God forbid! Someone is unhappy with princess Alice!"

I saw her flinch in the corner of my eye and fixed my jaw. I didn't mean to sound so harsh. Then again I didn't want to just brush this aside as one of her whims either. With another sigh she got up.

"Fine. Be angry with me all you want, but give Jasper a break. He didn't tell you because _I _asked him not to and he was not happy to do it. So…" Alice sighed glancing at me and then the cupcake on the table. Me not eating it was probably the biggest insult of all or perhaps a final indication that I was _not _taking this lightly.

"Alright well… will you at least let me know when you are done being angry?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Alice was just so…_Alice._

"I think you will notice." With that she finally moped out of my room, closing the door behind her. I rubbed my face. I had to give her credit for standing up for Jasper, same way I had to give Jasper credit for standing up for Alice earlier today. It didn't take away the vexation I felt towards both of them however and for now I allowed myself to be unreasonable if that was what I was. My glance fell on the cupcake sitting on the little table, looking like an innocent bystander dragged into an unpleasant situation. I picked it up and battled my inner angry morals for a moment before sinking my teeth into it. After all, it was just a waste of perfectly good, delicious butter cream frosting.

* * *

**AN: ****So that was that. Hope you enjoyed it. :) And I **_**have**_** said this already, but this **_**was **_**a pretty long chapter so just a little reminder : please review!!! :P The n****ext chapter will be about Edward and Bella's first rendezvous. **


	5. A Bundle of Lilies

**AN: So this chapter gave me some trouble. The characters wouldn't cooperate and neither would my head. So I found myself stuck on several occasions**** and actually have hit the delete button after 8000 words two times. This is the third attempt. I hope you enjoy it :) Please make me very very happy with a comment! **

**Also, I have written the first chapter of a non-human story "Lost &Found". So check it out :) ! **

**Last but not least, a big thanks to Starlight841 for putting up with me!  
**

**Alverdine. **

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer.

* * *

_Chapter 5: __A Bundle of Lilies. _

_-B-_

I stared in the full-length mirror with a frown creasing my forehead. It had taken me hours to finish doing the bi-annual inventory check of my store, not in the least place because I had to recount everything three times. I had been distracted with a capital 'D'. I had been distracted with a capital 'D' ever since I put toothpaste on my toothbrush the previous evening. Going on a date of sorts with Edward Cullen tonight was wrecking my nerves. Not in the least place, because I hadn't been on a date in years. What if I thought it was a date and all he meant for it to be was a friendly dinner? _Ugh!_ I cursed my heart's betrayal as it pounded in my chest. Even the tediousness inventorying affixed to my existence had not managed to kill off the jitteriness I felt. Thank God, Dave had taken over at some point or I would still be sitting there by the end of the year. I sighed. Ironically inventorying myself didn't prove difficult at all. I knew very well I was average – average height, weight, intelligence, average physical appeal. It seemed that nature had bestowed me with the low budget version of everything; two boring brown eyes, a bush of boring brown hair that did nothing more than just hang there no matter what I did to it, it's stubborn straightness beating any curling iron ever invented. I had a wide forehead and a pointy chin, with lips that were too plump and made my face strangely disproportional. My body was lacking every bit of sensuality, or coordination even. Edward's inventory on other hand… I cleared my throat as a blush crept up my cheeks. We were every bit a mismatch.

Ordinary women like myself just didn't end up with extraordinary specimens of manhood like him. It was a simple fact I had to reconcile with, a fact I _had_ reconciled with. So I could as well take a breath and relax. Enjoy myself while I could, because soon enough it would be over. I knew this very well. Then _why_ did I care what I looked like? _Why _was the contents of my closet piled on my bed? _Why_ had I been running around like a mad woman ever since I opened my eyes that morning. I ran a hand through my hair and picked up a red blouse from the pile of clothing on the bed and held it up before me. Another sigh rolled over my lips. Too red. With the constant blushing walking hand in hand with Edward's presence I would look like a tomato. I fought the urge to set my bed and everything on it on fire. Useless!

"What are you doing?" My head flung around in my bewildered state and I stared into Angela's dark eyes. She was causally leaning against the doorframe nibbling on a carrot stick, "Reorganizing your closet?"

"No." I huffed flinging the red garment aside and eliciting a complaining meow from Winston who found his nap disturbed by the flying article of clothing and was sleepily trying to dig his way out every bit as disoriented in the avalanche of silk and cotton as I was.

"I just hate everything in it," I groaned, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. Angie raised her eyebrows, but dared to enter my lair further and sat down on the edge of the bed as I lunged deeper in my closet. Maybe I still had the dress I wore to my high school graduation.

"Ben and I are going to the movies tonight," she said picking up a grey sweater and examining it, "If you want to join us, we are going to see that movie with Edward Cullen." At the sound of his name I jumped up, hitting my head against wardrobe rack and knocking it over. I winced grabbing my scalp with both my hands, trying to soothe the pulsating sting.

"Are you okay in there?" her voice just barely reached me through the buzzing in my ears and I hummed a response. His name from her lips, in that sentence only once again confirmed I was out of my mind even considering doing this. I was stripping years off my life by hanging around him. If everyone had a predestined amount of heart beats, mine were rapidly depleting.

"I think you should come with us," she continued as I got out of the wardrobe on all fours and took a deep breath, "You need to get out." She steered me a pointed look, "It's Friday night for crying out loud. You should spend it with some hot guy and if not…staring at one. God…I swear I don't care if that movie is crap. Cullen could sit there and read the phonebook out loud for three hours. I'd still nominate him for an Oscar." She let out wistful sigh a and I blinked. This was not as weird as I thought it would be. Her talking about him, me going out with him. It was surpassing any weirdness anyone could think possible in a situation like this. Then again, what was the likelihood, one found herself in a situation like this. The chances to be stricken by lightning were probably higher.

"So?" she asked, stretching the o and looking at me, sitting on the floor amidst the chaos of fabric, "What do you say?"

What was I going to say? I'm sorry I can not come with you, I am actually going to have dinner with Edward Cullen? I could barely fathom it myself. How was my roommate going to swallow that baby? Telling the truth was no option. She would think I was delusional. I scoffed. I _was_ delusional.

"Ehm…I sort of have plans already," I then sighed. Plans was good. Plans was vague.

"You are not going to watch "Pride and Prejudice" all by yourself again, are you?" she let out an exasperated sigh. Maybe "plans" was a bit _too_ vague.

"No… I'm not." Not that there was something wrong with watching "Pride and Prejudice" all by myself. I liked watching "Pride and Prejudice" all by myself. "I have a date… of sorts," I added and bit my lip.

Angela raised an eyebrow. "I know you've had a long term relationship with them, but Ben and Jerry don't count."

I rolled my eyes and smirked.

"Oh my God! A real date?! With a real man?!" Suddenly Angela was on the floor as well, leaning in and making me slant backwards in order to keep some distance between us, however slight.

"No, he comes out of a can," I deadpanned, "Yes. A real man." Although at times it was somewhat hard to believe.

"_Oh. My. God_!" She grinned like a mad woman taking me by the shoulders and shaking me, "Do you know what that means!?" I furrowed my brow.

"Ehm…"

"We can double date!" Oh joy. I supposed if there was one thing weirder than going to see a movie starring Edward Cullen at the moment, was going to see a movie starring Edward Cullen with Edward Cullen. She saw my reluctance and sat back on her heels folding her hands in her lap.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. You want him all for yourself. I get it." She smiled like a kid who had just found the nickel the tooth fairy had left under her pillow, "Who is he?"

I shook my head, staring at my own hands mirroring hers in my lap to hide the slight blush.

"Just a guy I met on the plane," I mumbled. Technically not a lie. Every word was true, be it not for the fact that I left out it was the guy she would be more than fine with reading the phone book out loud for three hours.

"So all this," she motioned at the disarray around us, "is because you don't know how to dress?"

"Yes," I murmured. It was embarrassing to admit it. Suddenly Angie's eyes filled with almost a sisterly love as she smiled at me.

"You must really like him. You haven't been on a date since what… Daniel?" I flinched at the mention of his name. The University of Washington had started out as a daunting place. Forks had made me forget how it was to live in a city with more than one zip code. I had felt like the small town girl I swore to never become. The first year had been hard, lonely even. I missed the comfort of Forks, I missed my father's mismatched kitchen, I missed my best friend. It was when I reconciled with the thought that I would never fully belong that I met Daniel Cooper. Beautiful, smart, witty Daniel Cooper. I saw him at some party I allowed myself to get dragged to and surprisingly he saw me. Of all the girls at his feet he saw me. For the following weeks I was the centre of his attention, I was the sun and he was orbiting around me. In hindsight it was this adoration that had made me so delusional as to not see who he really was, for Daniel Cooper had not been a comet that lit my sky, he had been a meteorite that had crashed into me, darkening my skies to this day. I had been stupid. I had known it all along; his reputation, his way with girls. But I had been so naïve to think that I could turn the lion into a housecat and now I was missing a limb. It was my own darn fault. I scowled. A fault I wasn't going to repeat. Ever.

"Bella?" I blinked focussing my gaze on Angela's quizzical expression.

"Yes…something like that."

Angela –sensing my discomfort- changed the subject, filling my being with a whole new discomfort.

"So…your date. We need to get you dolled up," she smiled. Dolled up. I cringed. Angela laughed straightening up and took my hand.

"It won't hurt, Bella," she winked, "You can see if you find something in my closet." I trailed behind her to her bedroom and waited patiently as she slid open her wardrobe and motioned for me to take a look. Immediately a white cashmere sweater caught my attention. I fingered it, the soft craftsmanship, the pattern twisting and turning. It was beautiful.

"Well go on, try it on," Angela urged, "And I have just the skirt to match." She pulled out a dark blue article of clothing and tossed it at me. I shook it out and looked at it. It was a narrow straight skirt. Probably knee length. Probably uncomfortable. I wasn't very skirt-y to begin with.

"Just try it on, then scrunch your nose." Had I scrunched my nose? I cast Angela an apologetic look and tossed aside my robe, pulling the skirt over my hips. I had to admit, it was comfortable. The stretchy cotton moulded after my body and mimicked my movements. I didn't feel like a sardine at all. Then the sweater embraced my curves and I dared to peek at myself in the mirror.

"You look so pretty, Bells," Angela smiled.

"Thanks." I bit my lip. I looked presentable. Average, but presentable. I supposed once you were average you couldn't spruce it up just like that, but I did look nice and I at least felt comfortable in what I wore.

"So what's his name?" Angela asked.

"Ehm…Edward." God, this was so stupid.

"Edward?" she sniggered, "Edward who?"

Drat. Edward… Edward… I furrowed my brow when a familiar tune reached my ear. Was that…my phone? I was never in my life so happy to hear a phone ringing.

"Phone!" I exclaimed and flew out of the room. This would give me some time to formulate a fictional last name. I jumped on my bed and began digging through heaps of clothes in search of the source of ringing. Finally, slightly out of breath the device found its way to my hand and I pressed the answer button.

"Hello?"

"_Hi."_ My stomach flip-flopped at the sound of his voice, or perhaps at the conviction that he was going to blow me off.

"I was about to leave," I said and bit my lip.

"_There is a problem, Bella." _

"Oh." My teeth sank deeper. He was blowing me off.

"_My parents are stuck in Canada. As far as I know they are up for Canadian citizenship. The rest is at a wedding in Montana and I am left to watch my niece. I can't get a babysitter on such short notice. And seeing that I am currently finger-painting, the chances I will make it to the restaurant at 7 even if I did are slim."_

"I understand," I replied once he ceased his rant and could hit myself for sounding so meek.

"_I'm sorry, B__ella. Really. This is becoming nonsensical. Two people should be able to find some undisturbed time to have dinner together, don't you think?"_ he sighed_, "And here even Canada seems to be mobilised to keep me away from what I've heard is a mouth-watering mushroom ravioli and your company. Keep it on the paper, Lily. Grandma won't be happy with a purple kitchen."_

"Okay. So some other time." I bit my lip harder, angry at myself for feeling so disappointed. I heard him sigh on the other end.

"_I have a proposal. I know you would have to go out of your way and I understand that this is the last thing a person wants to substitute a "dinner gone horribly wrong" scenario with, but you could come over to my parent's home for some extraordinary take-out and a finger-painting workshop. Or we can reschedule, but I would love if you came over. I can come pick you up even. I'll just dump Lily in the car. Once I've figured out how to install a car seat."_

"_Can we have pizza?"_ I heard a little girl's voice.

"_We'l__l see. Hey! What did I say? Those hands are staying over_ there_. One shirt with pink handprints is more than enough for my collection_." The girl giggled, "_Don't you even_ think _about it. I'm serious_." She laughed harder. _"And keep them where I can see them."_ Now he, too, chuckled, before turning his attention to me again, _"So what do you say? I promise you the paint will be out of the way before you get here."_

"I'm…sure. I'll come," my heart thudded in my chest, "Give me the address. I'll take a cab."

"_492 Highland Road."_ I wrote it down and stared at the piece of paper for a moment. Meeting him at his home, on his turf, was a strange thought. And a terrifying one. A restaurant was neutral territory, it was safe. I liked safe. Would I dare stepping into the lion's lair? Briefly closing my eyes I bit through the lemon.

"Alright then, see you in a bit."

* * *

I ordered a cab and put on my boots, bouncing my knee impatiently as I waited for it to arrive on the couch. Winston , who had installed himself in my lap, got sick of the turbulence and crawled off my legs, stretching lazily and draping his furry self over the nearest pillow. What I wouldn't do to feel even half of his relaxation.

"How do I look?" Angela stepped out of her room and twirled before me, sporting a green dress.

"Very nice," I smiled, "Ben is a lucky man."

"As is your mystery Edward," she winked, "I'm really glad, Bells. Took you long enough to jump back on that horse."

I sighed. I was nowhere near on that horse. I was just gauging it from behind the fence. My phone buzzed and my heart jumped, indicating that my cab had arrived. I got up, grabbing my purse.

"Have fun, Bella," Angela smiled.

"Thanks, you too." I took a deep breath and stalked towards the door, stopping in my tracks when Angela called my name a final time.

"I hope he's worth it," she said once I had turned around. I nodded. I hoped so, too.

_

* * *

_

"Are you sure this is it?" I asked the cab driver and took another glance outside to check whether my eyes were deceiving me. They were still there, the open wrought iron gates and the driveway that led to a majestic estate, cushioned in-between the pine treas. It had to be at least a century old, rising three stories high in graceful and timeless red brick perfection. This was not entirely what I had expected. Then again, neither had I expected to spend an evening with Edward Cullen, nor meet him in the first place. So far, everything since that day on the plane had been unexpected.

"492 Highland Road," the driver said, a strange eastern accent coating his words ,"This is it."

I nodded numbly and handed him the money for the ride before getting out of the cab, my heels producing a hesitant staccato on the asphalt. I took a few steps and found myself on the boundary were the tarmac met the gravel. Where my life as I knew it met something I did not dare to embrace. Where reality met surrealism. Where Bella met Edward.

The iron of the gate curled and twisted into patterns my eyes didn't deem possible for a material this sturdy. The gateway was wide open, beckoning me to enter. I glanced back only to see the taxi drive down the street, its red tail lights disappearing behind a hill. I was left alone in the twilight. Taking a deep breath I set the first step on the pebbly surface. It crunched under my feet as I made my way towards the front door, looking around the endless garden, shrouded in nightly shadows. The last of my doubt evaporating when I saw a silver Volvo parked under the trees.

The lights in the house were on and pouring a yellow light through the vast windows, setting the rest of the house in a warm glow, making it resemble a sepia photograph. I climbed the stairs to the porch, passing the massive columns on which it rested and found myself in front of a heavy oak door. Taking a deep breath I rang the doorbell. It echoed through the domicile, giving only an indication of the space behind the barrier. I felt jittery, rocking back on my heels and then back on the balls of my feet again as I waited, nearly toppling over when the door flung open. Just in time I steadied myself, before I would rather gracelessly plummet on my ass.

"Hi." My mouth twitched into a smile, before my teeth took my bottom lip hostage.

"Hello," Edward smirked his mindboggling smirk, blocking the entrance with his tall lean body, clad in a dark button up shirt. He leant against the doorframe with his forearm, the rolled up navy blue sleeve offsetting his fair complexion and making the strange bronze shade of his unruly locks stand out even more. I remembered the silky feel of them as my fingers delved through them and felt my cheeks flush at the reminiscence.

"Could you find it alright?" He stepped aside motioning for me to come in and I stepped inside gaping in amazement at the size of it all. I turned around my axis taking in the room around me. The contemporary paintings on the white walls, the ceilings that had to be at least 20 feet high, a dark wood staircase curling to the second floor unwrapping into an open landing. I faintly heard the door fall in its lock with a gentle thump on the background.

"You didn't tell me you live in a museum," I said, finishing my circle and coming to face him.

"I suppose it's spacious," he lifted his shoulders in a shrug, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a curious smile on his face as he eyed me. Spacious. That was one way to call it. I glanced around again.

"Would you like to see the rest of it?"

"Yeah, I'd love to," I smiled with a nod.

"Let me take your coat first."

"Oh…right." I unbuttoned the blue garment as he waited patiently beside me, "We match," I added to fill some of the space and some of the silence, and there was certainly a lot to fill. I caught myself wondering about spider webs and peeked into the highest corner. Nothing. _Get a grip,_ _Bella, _I scolded myself as Edward grinned pulling the coat down my arms, "This colour of blue looks lovely with your skin." I gaped at him. Had he just complimented my five year old shabby coat? And my skin? If thoughts could be high-pitched, this one sure was. I nearly cringed.

"Ehm…thanks" I looked down to hide my blush, "You too." Daring to glance up I noticed I was alone and somewhere far away I could hear his vaporous chuckle. Where had he gone? A lot of time to ponder this I did not get as I saw a little person in the corner of my eye and nearly shrieked in surprise. I locked my eyes with two hazel orbs staring at me. A little girl, not older than five, was sitting on the stairs, her little body clad in what looked like a fairy outfit. I could see the sheer purple and glitter wings attached to her back by elastics she had stuck her arms through. In her tiny hand she held a feathery, glittery wand, all the while eyeing me warily. I took a step in her direction and her lip protruded into a pout as her golden eyes gaze at me with a little more ferociousness. Perhaps, I should just stay right here, before she could get the chance to turn me into a toad.

"Hi, I'm Bella," I said. She didn't answer, nor did she blink. As still as she sat, she could have been a china doll. Her skin was already porcelain, the curve of her cheeks rosy and her round eyes with long dense eyelashes were almost too big for her delicate face.

"You're going to just be quiet there…" I concluded with a sigh and glanced around once more, examining the crystal chandelier above me. With my luck, I imagined it falling down on my head. It had to be at least 250 pounds. I would surely die. Perhaps too much _Phantom of the Opera,_ this type of death. I returned my gaze to the girl on the steps. She had yet to say a thing, or move for that matter.

"Ah! I see you two met already," Edward returned. The words just barely got the time to leave his mouth, when the child jumped up and darted around me in a wide circle, before gluing herself to Edward's legs. I shrugged, biting my lip. It surely couldn't have been something I said.

"Oh don't be like that," Edward sighed picking her up and placing her on his arm, "She's shy around strangers." He gave me an apologetic smile as the girl studied her wand without looking at either of us.

"That's fine," I shook my head returning his smile. As a child I would rather hide behind my mothers skirt as well.

"A week ago she ran away from me too. She'll get over it, won't you, Lily?" Instead of answering she buried her face in the crook of his neck and Edward rolled his eyes at me, the fact that he shifted her so that his chin gently rested atop of her blond curls not going unnoticed.

"So… would you like something to drink on the grand tour?"

"Oh… we need provisions, do we?" I smirked.

"Yes," he chuckled, "the camel holding all the necessary supplies is just around that corner."

I took in a deep breath. This wasn't so scary. I just had to keep close, for getting lost in a property this size could prove to be fatal. It could take years before one was found. So I did just that. I followed behind him as he preceded me to what turned out to be a spacious light kitchen. On the counter stood a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses.

"Do you drink wine?" he asked me turning around, "I…ehm…didn't know. I can get you something else."

"Wine is just fine." I shook my head, coming closer and letting my fingers run over the granite countertop.

"What about you?" he asked Lily, "Are you thirsty?"

"Juice box!" The girl bounced on his arm, hitting his head with her wand.

"Very nice," Edward rolled his eyes. I chuckled. It was almost endearing how patient he seemed to be with her. Like a dog uncomplainingly enduring a toddler pulling his ears.

He opened a cabinet, then another till he located the little boxes holding orange juice.

"This?" he asked and Lily nodded. He took it out, ripping the plastic off the straw with his teeth and sticking it in the box before handing it to her.

"Now be ca-" his sentence was cut off with a growl, when the girl reached out and clasped her hands around the cardboard box shooting a spurt of orange liquid over him. "….careful." He finished with a sigh.

"Oops." I watched in amazement as Lily's eyes grew even more, now occupying almost half her face and she pursed her lips in remorse.

"That's the third shirt today…" Edward sighed and dragged his hand over his face, "You are straining my wardrobe, kid." I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

He set her on the counter and reached for the tea towel, dabbing his shoulder and chest.

"Great. For the rest of the evening I'm going to smell of extra vitamin C." He flung the towel aside and reached for the bottle of wine, rummaging through a drawer in search of an opener.

"Anaesthetic," he smirked as the cork shot out with an audible pop. Briefly the bottle lingered at Edward's nose and he took a whiff, followed by a hum. It had to be a satisfactory hum, for he poured the two glasses half full with ruby liquid in a fluent motion of his wrist.

I thanked him when he handed me the glass, my voice hitching for the briefest of moments when his fingers accidentally brushed across mine. What was it about his touches that had every sense pin sharp, every nerve ending hot and bothered? He was just a man for heaven's sake and he smelled of orange juice.

His lips twitched up into a smile before he set the glass to his mouth and dipped them in the wine. I mimicked him, taking a sip myself, wincing when the sour bitterness hit the roof of my mouth. I wasn't much of a drinker. Perhaps wine hadn't been the best of ideas. He held my gaze with those mesmeric green planes of his eyes and I found myself unable to look away till the slurping sound of the straw's struggle to collect the last drops of juice from the juice box broke my fixation. Lily let out a happy sigh bouncing on the countertop, her legs swinging back and forth. I smirked at her.

"Come with me, I'll show you around." He plucked Lily off the counter and she darted off, out of the kitchen and up the stairs, nimble and light quite like the fairy she was portraying.

"Your niece is very cute," I stated as we followed her at a slower pace.

"_Very._" He motioned at his shirt with a pointed look, but his eyes were amused. So expressive they were. I wasn't really surprised he was an actor. He eyes alone could hold a theatre captive and surely drown me. I let out a sigh just as we reached the landing, a long hallway stretching out to either side of us. The walls were adorned by paintings.

"There are so many paintings in this house," I remarked.

"My mother collects them," Edward smirked, "When she retires from the museum, she can open one of her own here." I had little doubt she couldn't. There was surely enough to see.

"Do you mind a short stop at my room? I need to change."

I shook my head, interested to see something of Edward in this magnificent house. He led me down the hallway, opening doors and showing me the rooms, all different, modern and yet old. It was a strange mix of the old and the new this house, as if it gathered memories as years passed, adapted to its time, but wasn't quite able to rid of its real age. It had to be wonderful to grow up in a house like this. Never a boring moment.

"This is my sister's room." Edward opened another door and let me look around the chaotic orange walled premises, clothes covering every possible surface, bags, shoes, and pencils straying across the floor. I glanced at the large canopy bed with buoyant white muslin curtains in the middle of the room looking soft and inviting, a window seat full of pillows books, and sketchpads and a view of the sparsely lit garden. It was almost like I had stepped into another world. I smiled. Edward's sister somehow struck me as a happy person.

"Alice's a bit of a slob," Edward chuckled, "I'm surprised she doesn't get lost in here. I nearly found Narnia once in her closet."

"It's cosy," I contradicted with a chuckle.

"That's one way to call it," he grinned closing the door and leading me further. I wondered whether the hall would ever end. It was almost like one of those mirror illusions and I almost expected to bump into a glass surface at some point.

"This used to be…well is I suppose, my room," Edward opened the door and nodded for me to come in. I complied, unable to stop my heart from speeding up when I passed him in the doorway. This felt so much like being sixteen again and seeing a boy's room for the first time, be it not for the fact that there was nothing sixteen-ish about this room. It was a compilation of white. White walls, white furniture, white rug on the dark wooden floor. The only accents seem to be the chocolate brown curtains and a matching bed spread. It looked almost sterile. But I soon saw traces of human life. There were books, CD's, and a plate with what looked like chocolate chip crumbles on a little table next to a white chaise, a slightly messy desk with papers and books scattered across it, opened as if he had just been studying something. I glanced at the notes neatly scribbled in the margins of articles and sticky notes stuck in between pages.

"Homework?" I asked with a grin.

"Something like that. I'm reading up on some things for possible parts, just to help me get in the right state of mind for auditions." I turned around to meet his demure face closer to me than expected.

"You are really serious about all this," I motioned at the desk and the study material on it.

"Well…it is my job," he shrugged, his mouth pulling up in a lopsided smirk and my heart shifting gears.

"According to my room mate you needn't try so hard," I joked, "Just looking at you is enough no matter what you do." I regretted the words immediately. Something flashed through his eyes and he let out a mirthless laugh. I bit my lip. Had I offended him? His beautiful features now soaked with frustration, he turned away from me and slid open the white wardrobe, pulling the first shirt off the hanger, the black fabric swishing softly in an outraged whisper when he flung it on the bed.

"I-I'm sorry?" My voice rose at the end, making it sound like a question rather than a statement, "I didn't mean to offend you." I mumbled, my teeth grating over my bottom lip.

"You didn't. Don't apologise." I was confused and my eyebrows knit together. It was clear that he was annoyed with me…or something at the least, but he sure wasn't giving many hints as to what that could be. I wasn't even sure what I had just apologised for.

I stood in silence following his fingers, leaving a path of unfastened buttons and smooth skin down his torso. It seemed my brain wasn't entirely registering what was going till he yanked the dark blue garment off his shoulders, leaving him profusely half naked. I automatically took a step back hitting the desk and steadying myself with my hand. I faintly heard paper wrinkle, but could not summon myself to look. I couldn't summon myself to look _away. _An avalanche of heat surged through my body and I drew in a ragged breath, my eyes raked over his defined collarbones, strong shoulders, the toned planes of his chest and abdomen, the trail of dark hair from his bellybutton disappearing under the buckle of his jeans. Oh God, he was beautiful. I took a sizeable gulp of the wine to wash away that thought and felt my cheeks redden even more at the sudden surge of alcohol in my system. A magazine picture truly had nothing on the real thing standing here in this room, ostensibly unaware of my presence or my blatant stare. Edward turned towards the bed taking the clean black shirt, offering me a perfect view of his stunning bare back as he did. The lean muscles rolling under his skin as he moved. He wasn't bulky I concluded, more feline, graceful somehow. In a daze I realised his lips were moving and blinked trying to remember what switch to flip as to understand what he was saying.

"Huh?" It came out like a peep and I felt my cheeks redden even more, searching for words but coming up blank.

"I wondered whether I can ask you for a favour," he repeated with a smile, buttoning the shirt, his bare skin slowly being swallowed by the black cotton.

"Uhu." Another peep. I shut my eyes and shook my head forcefully. It seemed to help, but when I opened them the daze was replaced by dizziness.

"I have a list of books that I wanted to get and I looked at websites from the bigger chain stores, but some of these need special orders and others I would need to find second handed. I was wondering if you could take a look. I would of course pay you for your time and …"

"Sure…" I nodded, "And you don't have to pay me for my time… it's my job."

"Thanks," he flashed his teeth rolling up his sleeves.

"Uncle Edward! Uncle Edward!" Lily ran past the opened door, hitting the breaks when she realised we were in here and darted into the room, "Uncle _Edward_!" She panted.

"_What?!_" Edward exclaimed leaning over, his hands on his knees to meet her at eye level.

"_Look,_" the girl proudly stuck out her finger.

"What is that?" He furrowed his brow inspecting it.

"A booger!"

Edward pulled a face and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to not burst out into laughter.

"And what in the name of God, possessed you to share it with the world?" He grabbed a tissue and cleaned her finger, "Forget I asked…I suppose you can't help your DNA."

"It's the biggest booger ever!" she raved, "Where is it?" The girl examined her finger with a frown.

"It went to booger heaven," Edward explained in a grave tone tossing the crumpled tissue in the bin, "They can't survive outside your nose."

"Oh," Lily scowled and a giggle fought its way through my lips. Edward picked her up and set her on his hip, pinching her puffy cheek.

"Let's show Bella the rest of the house, okay?" She nodded apprehensively, still mourning the loss of her special booger. I smoothed out the paper under my hand to the best of my ability and left the table turning to his bookcase, that for the utmost part was filled with music. Endless rows of CDs and LPs, a gramophone alongside a stereo system.

"Boy, you have _so_ much music," I admired, "What are you listening to?" My finger pressed the play button of the CD player and the blue screen lit up, a soft tune wrapping the room immediately. I wasn't sure where the sound came from, but it was all encompassing and soothing, the piano and the cello twining together in perfect harmonies. In a strange way it seemed to colour the whiteness of the room.

"It's Fauré," he shrugged in almost a shy manner, "I'm trying to convince myself it's helping me sleep."

"It's beautiful," I smiled and turned it off again folding my hands behind my back and waiting for him to say something.

"That it is," he agreed, "I think you will find my father's study more to _your_ liking."

"I will?" I echoed. Edward shrugged nodding towards the door, the smile still on his face. He followed me, giving me brief instructions where to go till I was told to step through a door. I opened it and found myself in a twilit room, unable to make out much out of anything, but then the lights turned on and I let out a short gasp.

"This is…_amazing_." There was no other word that could describe this room. I turned around my axis only to conclude that I was surrounded by books. Ceiling to floor, every inch of wall was covered in them. Hundreds of manuscripts.

"My dad likes books," Edward chuckled.

"I'll say!" Of course I was surrounded by books in the store, but to have something like this in one's home, at one's private disposal… I let my fingers run along the countless spines, noticing that they were nearly all vintages. I pulled one out randomly and upon examination realised it was "A Street Car Named Desire", the author's name lettered in gold. It couldn't be… I lifted the flap and shook my head at the numbing amazement. It was not only the rare first edition, it was also inscribed. _To Melvyn, Tennessee Williams. _I wondered if that "Melvyn" had had any idea how lucky he had been.

"Do you have _any_ idea how rare this book is?" I asked Edward instead and he laughed, probably at my nearly bitter tone.

"I'm sure it is. Carlisle enjoys the hunt for rare vintages."

I put it back, pulling the sleeves of Angela's sweater over my hands so they would stop itching for me to grab a handful of this treasure and run away. Instead I focussed on the antiqued mahogany desk and the picture frames it held. The first one to catch my attention was a black and white photograph of a beautiful young woman laying on a couch with a gentle smile on her face and a little boy hugging her pregnant belly.

"Is that you?" I asked running my fingers over the child's silhouette.

"No," Edward smirked, "That's my brother. I'm here." He pointed at her swollen stomach.

"You were in there?" Lily wondered out loud still comfortably situated on Edward's arm. The mourning over her booger seemed to be a thing of the past.

"Yep."

"How did you fit?" Both Edward and I burst out in laughter at her confused expression as she gauged her uncle and tried to fit him in her grandmother's belly.

"Well... I've grown a few inches since then." He winked, "You come from your mommy's belly, don't you?" Lily nodded with that severe look in her eyes.

"Look at the tiny worm you were." He picked up a black frame holding a picture of a sleeping baby, not older than a week, and showed it to her, "And look at you now. You have grown a bit, too."

She thought about it for a while.

"I was a baby then."

"Yes. And look at your daddy," he pointed at his brother in the first photo, "He is smaller there than you are now. He grew up to be quite the bear, didn't he?"

"My daddy is a bear," Lily declared to me with pride and I let out a laugh.

"Should I be afraid?"

"No, mommy smacks him if he is mean."

"The Cullen family dynamic," Edward chuckled. I reached for a photo of three kids in what looked like an open spot in the woods, two boys and a girl and this time there was no doubt which one was Edward. The wild copper hair almost glowed in the sun.

"We used to go camping a lot," Edward explained. He was standing so close to me that his breath raked my ear as he looked over my shoulder and an involuntary shiver ran down my spine. The feelings he generated with one word, one touch was astounding and terrifying at the same time.

The shrill sound of his phone made me jump up. He fished it from his pocket and checked the caller ID.

"I'm sorry. I have to take this one," he said setting Lily on the floor, "Show Bella around downstairs, okay?" He ran a hand through her curls, "You know the house as well as I do."

Lily nodded and grabbed my hand pulling me out of the room with muscle I did not expect in a person this size. I chuckled trailing behind her, through the hall and down the stairs. Her hostility towards me seemed to have thawed.

"This is where we eat and when Thanksgiving comes grandma will make a turkey. And Nana Platt will come, but she makes me eat peas and I don't like peas," she explained upon leading me into a dining room with a long table, in the middle of it a vase holding a bouquet of calla lilies. It looked so empty, the room, almost begging for company.

"Do you know how these flowers are called?" I asked Lily, fingering one of the white calyces. She bobbled her head.

"Daddy always buys mommy a rose and me a lily," she said, "because he says we are his favourite two flowers." I smiled. It sounded like inside the alleged bear, there was a hopeless romantic.

"That's very sweet of your daddy."

"Uhu." She pulled my hand again and I complied, letting her pull me out of the room into the next.

It was immense. There had to be no other way than there had been a wall knocked out, perhaps even more than one. Despite its size it was inviting. There seemed to be two sitting areas on either side of the L the room formed, holding comfortable looking white sofas, chairs and futons. One was facing a burning fireplace, on the coffee table an unfinished game of chess. The other was opposing a sizable flat screen TV. The walls held paintings, there were blankets slung over the rests of the couches, more books, on different scattered shelves, flowers and candles. It was the shiny black grand piano, however that stole my attention. It was surrounded by floor high windows. I imagined them open in the summer, fusing the garden with the room, making it endless and the piano tune filling not only the air within these walls but also outside them. Briefly, I glanced around for Lily, but could not locate her. Perhaps she had dissolved in her fairy dust…or found another booger. I snickered stepping closer to the majestic instrument and reaching out to touch it.

"Do you play?" His voice startled me, my breath hitching as I was caught in the act. I glanced back, my fingers running over the smooth black surface before sliding over the keys. I retrieved them quickly when one of my fingers accidentally pushed down a key and the majestic creature let out a musical yelp.

"No, not really," I smirked blushing, "We had a piano at home, because my mom loves to play. I just doodled around a bit." I shrugged keeping my clumsy hands away from the instrument. Edward slid on the bench and patted the spot beside him.

"Doodle for me," he requested, a smile in his voice. My stomach made a jolt as my jaw dropped slightly and I raised an eyebrow, ready to tell him a definite _No. _

"_Please_?" The word rolling over those lips, pulled into that incredible crooked smirk, while he gazed up at me through his opaque lashes, made my body hum. _Cheater. _This was hardly fair. How was I ever going to have a mind of my own when he could me gaze me into submission? For that seemed to be all it took. One dazzling look. I would probably even start chanting in Finnish if he asked me to, batting those eyelashes. I fought the urge to slap myself. _Bella, you are being ridiculous._

"Don't be self-conscious," he smiled, "Who is going to hear but me? I've never had a girl play for me before."

_Ha! _And what an experience that was going to be. He was going to cringe each time a woman even approached a piano after _my_ performance.

"I _really_ can't play," I insisted, "_Heart and Soul_ and _Chopsticks_ is as far as I go. And not even that. I can only play the melody with one hand." _Don't make me do this. Please, don't make me do this. _I was going to die out of shame.

"Doesn't matter, I'll jump in. _Heart and Soul_ is after all a duet," he winked and I sank down next to him with a sigh, my cheeks' temperature rising a few degrees more, due to his close proximity, his divine scent clouding my mind on one hand, his request on the other. I lifted my hand, my fingernails stubby from the ugly habit of biting them and stared at the keys for a moment. I hadn't done this in years. I had no idea where to begin anymore, all the keys looked alike and were obstinately keeping quiet, letting me guess. My eyebrows knit together as I tried to remember.

"Here." Edward's cool hand took a hold of mine and I couldn't contain the small gasp of surprise as a jolt of electricity coursed through my body at his touch. He isolated my pointer finger in his and placed it on a key.

"Thanks," I mumbled. After taking a deep breath I began to play –if one could call it that- biting my lip in concentration. I pushed the smooth ivory down three times, the instrument once again coming to life under my crude fingers. I pressed the key one more time, before bouncing down on the two keys preceding it. _One, two, three, four_. I counted in my head as my fingers climbed up again. When it came to notes I was illiterate and feeling a lot like a monkey mimicking its caretaker. Up one more. Three times. _One, two, three. _A small pause, and then another hit, before bouncing down two keys. I was so fixated on doing it right, the piano responding to my touch in a monotonous melody, that I jumped up – as seemed the grand- when Edward placed his hands on the keys, the sound all of a sudden not only amplifying, but also gaining dimension. My hand froze, hovering over the ivory as I stared at his fingers stroking the keys, with ease eliciting a melody countless times more complex than my two finger tune.

"Don't stop," he laughed, briefly flashing his perfect teeth. I felt like a moron playing the repetitive tune as his fingers swiftly skipped over the keyboard, harmony after harmony wrapping my squiggle into a musical painting.

"Show-off," I muttered, while my finger descended two notes, before climbing again._ One, two, three on black key, four._

"I'm just following your lead," he chuckled. My _lead._ I fought the urge to snort. Quite the paradox that was, _him _following _me,_ in every sense of the word. As I watched his effortless play, his hands strong but elegant like the piano itself and at my own unkempt fingers, with some difficulty dragging out a choppy melody, I simply did not understand. Like I didn't understand why he was with me now in the first place, why he looked me up in the bookstore, not once but twice, why he invited me to his home. Why he wasted time on _me. _

"You are doing all the work," I mumbled, finding the black key again.

"No," Edward smirked, "you're carrying the whole tune. Try quitting, see what happens." I did. I removed my hand and watched him, listening intently. At first I didn't see what he meant. His agile fingers lured the most exquisite of tunes from the instrument. My stopping hadn't changed a thing in his ability to play. And play he could. I looked at his face, his gaze cast down to the keys but strangely clouded, as if he wasn't really seeing whilst the melody seemed to change. He snatched some phrases, discontinued another melody on his improvised path. I had to smile at the intermissions so unusual, rhythmic punctuations and syncopations occurring at irregular intervals. The dissonant harmonies rising were incredible, yet it wasn't _Heart and Soul _anymore. Along the way the original rhythm had been lost, had become irregular, wild, and hard to fathom. I suddenly saw what he meant. My two finger doodle seemed to keep him in tune. It was a silly thought, but as I put my hand on the keyboard, resuming my little repetition, it wasn't long before Edward slowed down and returned to the tuneful, smooth, melodic line, wrapping the harmonies around my two finger refrain. And then it was_ Heart and Soul _again, as if it had never ceased to exist. He chuckled glancing at me.

"Some things are meant to be played together, Bella," he winked rounding up, gradually slowing till the last soulful note reverberated in the air around us and faded into nonexistence, leaving the piano and the room quiescent.

I was very aware of his eyes lingering on my face and that was why I kept mine sturdily fixed on the now silent black and white of the keys. It felt like sharing a piano bench with a lion, magnificent and enticing, but also very much so a 550 pound marauder that was more than capable of tearing me to bits. And I couldn't have him tear me to bits. I wasn't even done gluing myself back together after the last time I ran into a lion and mistook him for a housecat. My heart was erratically beating in my chest, his unrelenting gaze silently willing me to look at him. And, damn it, a part of me wanted to. I wanted to see what shade of green his eyes were now, I wanted to see the expression on his striking face. One peek. One quick glance. I looked up and immediately forgot how to breathe. Bad idea. _Bad_ idea. His eyes were dark, saturated, smouldering and yet unambiguously green. As far as my association with green went it was part of the wet and the cold, it was a part of foggy days and rainy nights, and yet now it was ablaze like I had never deemed possible. I gaped back, unable to look away. It was too late, the predator had locked its prey. I didn't dare to move when he lifted his hand and brushed a strand of my hair out of my face, securing it behind my ear. My breathing hitched, when he grazed the spot behind my earlobe with his fingertips, before his hand came to a rest in my neck, thumb on my raging pulse. His face was so much closer to mine all of a sudden, our eyes still locked in silence, when his gaze shifted and I caught him staring at my lips. _Oh my God._ It was so easy to succumb. My body hummed for his touch, every nerve ending jittery. He inched closer, slowly, silently, as to not startle me. He really did look leonine in his floating stillness, his bronze mane fierce and tempting me to delve my fingers in it yet again as his face stopped a mere inch from mine. _Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! _I closed my eyes, my heart banging against my ribcage. So easy to succumb and yet…so _hard_. The jitteriness morphed into a feeling of a suffocation. His hand on my throat, his face so close to mine that I could feel his breath against my skin. I couldn't breathe. I slanted backwards, my fingers clawing at his wrist, while my eyes shot open.

Edward released me instantly, confusion fighting its way through the sultry greens in his eyes still set on me. He created the distance between us I quietly begged him to create and cleared his throat, seemingly unsure of how to carry himself. I was certain my face was ashen, for I felt queasy. He was going to be the end of me. For a moment I could have sworn I could see a blush on his cheeks, but I wasn't sure since he had ducked his head by now studying his hands in his lap. The silence became uncomfortable, piercing. I almost heard buzzing in my ears. I dared to glance at him from under my eyelashes briefly, but couldn't make out much of it. He seemed to be deep in thought. So I bit my lip and waited for him to break the silence, for I sure couldn't. Not after this.

"I'm hungry!" The little voice - now sounding strangely a lot like a ship horn - startled us both and our heads simultaneously shot in its direction. There in the middle of the room stood Lily, a pout on her endearing face and I had never been so grateful to see it.

"I'm sorry," Edward cleared his throat again with a fleeting glance my way before getting up. The words were spoken in a soft voice, barely a murmur, and by the time I fully registered them he was halfway the room, leaving me wrapped in his apology and the feeling that I had stuffed up beyond repair.

TBC

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**AN: Little cliffy, but it felt like this was a natural ending and whatever I wrote after just seemed to be an anti-climax. I know I seem to drag things on…but I can't really help it. When it comes to this…my fingers rule and I just follow. Thank you for reading and reviewing! :) **


	6. Turning Tide

**AN: Dear Readers, **

**I have several things to say. First of all, this is the final, edited version of this chapter. Big thanks to my Beta for editing this giant. (Over 12,000 words. It's a person record lol.) Secondly,****I fully realise how long it's been since I last updated. This has mostly to do with school swallowing up my life. School and sleep have been my main activities for the last couple of weeks and somehold as welltimes sleep has to be put on . Believe me, when I say that I have not forgotten about this story and work on it whenever I don't fall asleep on the couch and wake up in a pool of my own drool only to realise I'm running late for school, I can't find my shoes, and am out of coffee. This are - and will continue to be- some stressful couple of months, and I hope you will bare with me through them. **

**As far as your reviews go: Thank you so much for all the kind words, encouragment, and for not murdering me over the course of this month as I have left the last chapter in a (for some people) quite unacceptable place. You guys, rock! Really. And I hope I can keep true to your expectations. **

**Also check out Starlight841's story "Don't let me Down". It is a companion piece for this story that centers around Emmett and Rosalie and is worth the read!**

**I'll shut up now. Enjoy!**

**Love,**

**Alverdine **

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer.

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Chapter 6: The Turning Tide

_-E-_

It was early, windy, and cold. The sun just now started to emerge from the murky waters of Puget Sound, colouring the dreary cloud bed over the city in luminous orange and gold. Standing on the damp sand and pebbles of the beach I felt like I had stepped in a vibrant painting. The bright colours of the sky dripped in the water as it swelled and relegated, purling as it hit the shore.

The winds were angry, the waves lathered with white tips, a clear sign of their majestic aggression as they crashed on to shore, the soughing like a bundle of raised whispers not pacifying but outraged; beckoning me to come closer like a chorus of Sirens. I did. I stepped closer to the water, my shoulders hunched against the icy wind, my hoodie not sufficient in repelling the November cold.

I was alone with nature's morning temper making my own insignificant amongst the driftwood and other debris that littered the sand. This beach was neither dry nor golden. It wouldn't make the cover of a travel magazine. It didn't adhere to the beauty ideal of tropical bliss and sunny paradise. Nevertheless, it was so beautiful. It was almost shocking that someone wouldn't be able to see how beautiful it was in its stunning rawness. And despite the fact that it didn't look nor sound welcoming it was.

It voiced what I felt; the frustration, the disappointment, the confusion, and the ignominy all caused by my own ignorance and _her_ intricacy, or perhaps obscurity was a better word. I had gone over it a thousand times in my mind, the things that had happened the previous evening. I tried to catch where exactly it had gone wrong, for it had started so promising. I failed every single time. I just didn't see it. Perhaps that was the whole problem. She numbed my senses, turned me into a fool so easily.

I closed my eyes replaying it in my mind once more, like it could change anything. Everything had been going perfectly! She had been sitting next to me, her strawberry scent tickling my nostrils, my hand begging to touch the soft swell of her cheek, the hollow of her throat. She wasn't pretty. She was beautiful. So breathtakingly beautiful. All I could do was stare. Looking couldn't hurt. I was _only _going tolook. But then…she had returned my glance, setting me on fire and there had been only so much I could do to resist. My hand had reached out to move a lock of hair behind her ear and plastered itself against her skin, her warmth seeping in every pore, my heart speeding up. She had gazed at me with her chocolate eyes, now so dark, so pure that I could almost taste the sweet bitterness on my tongue. And then her lips…her tempting full lips. I had wanted to see whether they were as soft as I imagined them to be... I_ still _wanted.

She had taken shallow breaths and closed her eyes as I inched closer. She had wanted this. Unmistakably. And then a switch had flipped and she had drawn back, desperately clawing at my hand, her eyes not sultry but scared. I had severely overrated my abilities to get a girl and it was strangely unsettling. She was there, beckoning me, calling me, like a bloody Siren and I was stuck on a treadmill. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn't reach her, nor escape her.

I sighed, starting a sluggish trot till I found the cadence that provided for a warm-up and I realised how much I had missed this. Running. Really running. Not on the hamster wheel that was the treadmill, but outside. In the weather –whatever it was; stirring the ground under my feet, fighting the wind that offered resistance, actually _getting_ walls, no peppy music. Just the waves and space, endless space.

My feet struck the cold ground faster. My breathing came out in shorter intervals, my lungs trying to keep up with my demands, the wind almost forcing the air down my throat. I had to slow down or I was going to be winded way before my ten mile goal. But I couldn't stop. I was like a steam locomotive that had gathered speed - was still gathering speed - and I couldn't find the will to pull the breaks. There was not a treadmill button that could force me to run well structured eight minute miles, there wasn't Jasper who had the canny ability to find the perfect rhythm, nothing to keep me focused, nothing but my will and concentration, which were sorely lacking. My thoughts were with Bella and my feet moved accordingly, as if trying to outrun her and miserably failing. I might not have been on the treadmill, my mind still was, my life still was. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn't outrun it and I had to stop some time.

When I finally came to a halt I wasn't sure the distance I had just covered. My body trembled from the exertion, my legs feeling powerless, my lungs protesting. I took a few deep breaths; my fingers pressing into my diaphragm to soothe the cramp there I hadn't noticed I had up to this point. My chest still heaved as I tried to force myself to take controlled breaths, my heart badgering my ribcage thud by hollow thud. I looked around, squinting in the wind. The Olympic Mountains across the Sound were a strange purple in the context of the golden sky. It looked disquieting, yet magnificent.

As the pain in my side slowly subsided, I noticed I was near the Golden Gardens, now desolate. It was beautiful here in the summer. Full of people. That was why I usually took the path that led into Carkeek Park. Through the trees, shielded by the canopy. But not today. Not this early. I snuck a peak at my phone. Eight AM. A woman trudged past me, her head full with pink curlers. She stifled a yawn while her pug trudged behind her and sniffed the sand with its flat snout.

Glancing back over the Sound I dug my heel in the sand as a new set of waves crashed onto shore and tried to fight their way inland, clawing at the sand only to be dragged back and leaving a faint shade. Only to try again. Futile attempt after futile attempt. I observed for a while, waiting for it to give up, but the waves kept sweeping back and forth inexorably till the umpteenth flounce managed to make me step back, filling the little indentation in the sand left there by the heel of my running shoe. I frowned, watching the water retreat, but the puddle in the indentation remained. My jaw fixed.

How often could I do this? This going back and forth, till I finally got some footing? How often did I have to inch closer only to be swept back? I had to give up _some_ time. There was only so much I could do to fight my body and the same went for my mind. There came a point, where it could go no longer. The aches became too hard to ignore, each breath didn't seem to quite reach the lungs anymore. Of course one could fight it. One could push that threshold. Push it, but never rid of it entirely.

I stood there until my heart stilled. I could no longer feel every beat against my ribcage, my lungs stopped fighting me as I ordered them to be filled through my nose only and some of the strength returned to my legs. Until the burning sky was wrapped in dark clouds and the wind turned menacing. Until a heavy drop hit me in the nose and I blinked. Time to go back.

I followed the imprints my running shoes left in the sand on my way. Ignoring the pain in my already aggravated side that set in sooner this time, trying to match every footstep with the previous one. As if that could eradicate my tizzy. It couldn't. And so I ran faster, not only away from Bella, but from myself. I realised that I was frustrated with myself at least as much as I was with Bella. The pregnant clouds ruptured at the seams and obese drops hit the sand in dull flops, first two, then six, then a million, till my clothes were completely drenched.

The back door of the house blew out of my hand and swept shut with a bang that made the windows vibrate. I flinched hoping I didn't wake the whole house, only to discover that the house was already awake.

"Goodness, Edward! You're soaked!" My mother exclaimed scurrying to meet me at the door.

"I know," I huffed trying to catch my breath and noticed I was dripping all over the spotless black tiles. "I'll clean that up."

"First clean yourself up," Mom chided pulling me further by my sleeve.

"Edward!" My father greeted, "Not really the weather to go for a run is it?" He took a sip from a sizeable mug, his hair a daunting disarray, flat on one side wild on the other, had he stuck his fingers in the outlet. He was wearing a dark blue robe with the elegant initials E.C. embroidered over his chest. It looked too short. I furrowed my brow.

"Are you wearing Mom's robe?" I asked.

"So what if I am?" He shot back and had my diaphragm not been in cahoots with my stupid mind to kill me, I would have burst in laughter at the haughty tone in which he replied.

"Whatever suits you. I'm going to take a shower," I said instead and kicked out my shoes, my socks leaving wet prints all over the house as I made my way to my room. I was just barely up the stairs when a shrill shriek was followed by a little person ambushing me. Lily slung her arms around my legs and let out a laugh.

"You're icky!"

"Oh I know." I scoffed prying her hands away and continued walking when she grabbed me again and I groaned.

"Not now Lily."

"Let's play hospital. I'll be the doctor," she offered, "and you'll be sick. You have a hole in your head. I'll ask grandpa for band aids!"

The diagnosis was almost shocking. I _obviously _had a hole in my head and somewhere along the way my brain had fallen out. Nevertheless, I wasn't in the mood to undergo surgery by a surgeon who had jam all over her face and wore strawberry shaped hairclips in her pigtails.

"Go play with grandpa," I told her freeing myself once again.

"But I wanna play with _you_!" The girl pouted and stomped her little foot on the carpet.

"No." I emphasized.

"Why not?" she whined her eyes those of an abandoned seal pup as she trailed behind me.

"Because." I was fucking freezing for one. In addition I was fucking annoyed and nowhere near the disposition needed to lower myself to a five year old's level.

I strode into my room and closed the door before Lily could enter. The fact that she was loitering just outside and I could see her shadow under the door annoyed me as much as her whining. I pulled the hoodie over my head. It was heavy from the rain and fell on the floor with a wet smack. My t-shirt, once I had pulled loose the fabric that was now annoyingly stuck to my skin, joined it. I took off my pants and socks and wished I could pull out my clammy skin as well.

After having grabbed a fresh set of clothes and picked up the sad dripping heap from the floor I pried open the door and nearly waltzed right over Lily who was glued to the threshold.

"Can we play astronaut then? You can fly the rocket, too, if you want." She shrugged, seemingly unaware that every patch of my skin was covered in goose bumps.

"Lily," I sighed, "Not now. Later, okay? I'm going to jump in the shower first."

"But—"

"No!" I strode past her and locked the bathroom door, thanking the Lord for heated floors and locks as Lily pulled at the door handle. I let the water in the shower run till it was steaming, then stripped off my underwear and threw the clothes in the laundry hamper before stepping in the glass shower cabin.

I hissed at the hot stream when it hit my skin, but soon welcomed the sting and closed my eyes letting it cascade over my head. My shoulders slummed and I braced myself against the wall, the water now running down my neck and back absorbing the cold and wrapping me in a soothing warm mantle. I couldn't relax, however. I just couldn't.

It wasn't just the fact that she had pulled away, that bothered me. It was the fact that I had pulled away as well. In a sulky, petulant manner, much like a five year old not allowed a shiny new toy. I had been a total bastard. She was obviously scared, even though it was beyond me what that could be. And sure…it was all going fast. We didn't know each other that well yet, but she couldn't possibly be missing that spark.

She had wanted it…just before _not _wanting it. I sighed. Truly, I was lost in translation. And this gave me no right at all to treat her like shit. I had barely uttered a word all throughout dinner and she had been staring at her plate as if it held the answers to all life's questions. We were barely finished when she all but whispered that it was time for her to go and I had concurred with a monosyllabic reply. _Oozing charisma there, Edward. Classy. _How self-centred could one be?

I left the shower even more aggravated. The bathroom was enveloped in a thick mist of steam, the mirror fogged up as I realised I had forgotten to turn on the damn vent. I reached out and dragged my palm over the surface of the mirror, my slightly distorted image becoming visible, hair matted to my forehead. I grabbed a towel and rubbed my head roughly, resulting in a hairdo that would fit someone who had spent some time in the tub with a toaster. I couldn't care less at the moment.

The hallway seemed desolate and I crept to my room, my bare feet soundless on the wooden floor. I made it to my room without interruptions and draped myself over my chaise suddenly so very tired. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. The idea of sleep was alluring. The idea of sleep made me want to cry, because I couldn't. I seriously considered asking Dad for something to knock me out for the rest of the decade. I truly wouldn't mind, it would save me a lot of headaches.

I was mad at the whole world it seemed. Jasper and Alice for their silent backstabbing. My parents for their consent. Bella for confusing the shit out of me. Lauren for breathing down my neck constantly. The weather for ruining my run. Lily for being…five. And myself, mostly myself for my inability to pull myself together. For not knowing what I wanted, and for the failure to hold on to the things that I did know I wanted. And all that I seemed to do was wallow in self-pity from the moment I got up in the morning, till I went to bed at night.

To add to this notion a monotonous melody filled the room. _F/G. F/G. F/G. F/G. F/G. F/G. E/G. E/G. E/G. E/G. E/G. E/G. _

"Oh for fuck's sake…" I moaned and grabbed a pillow pulling it over my head. Lily was going to end me. She was going to kill me through _Chopsticks _and through that piano that did not have my fancy at the present either. Every time I walked past it I was reminded. I was reminded of the fantastic time there playing with Bella and the less than fantastic occurrence after.

I got up swiftly and threw a CD in the stereo system cranking up the volume till it fully swallowed Lily's two-finger torture. _The Ride of the Valkyries _exploded around me. How typical. Of all the angry German music I had to choose the one piece portraying maidens on hellhounds choosing those who died in a battle. Well I gave up. World vs. Edward Cullen: 1-0.

"Oy!" I jumped up at the sudden shout and looked at my father standing in the doorway still in mom's robe, his hair wild, in his arms a box. "Do you mind?" He glanced at my CD player and I searched for the remote, the volume dying down, once I found it.

"Thank you," Dad said, "It is not even ten AM on a Saturday, Edward, I _really_ don't want to walk around with the feeling I have to invade Poland on my _only_ free Saturday this month. It's tiring."

"I'm sorry," I grumbled.

"Why are you so gutted?" Dad asked.

"I'm fine," I sighed and nodded at the box. "What's that?"

Dad raised an eyebrow, his eyes never leaving mine as he stared at me, clearly not convinced. Not that I looked convincing. I could almost feel the thunder cloud hanging over my head.

"_Really_," I emphasised, "I'm _fine._" The translation of those words was quite a simple one, and over the years my dad had come to speak my language quite fluently. Hence, as he relented, not pushing the matter further, I cast him a grateful look.

"Well…do you at least want coffee with your Wagner?" he asked as the violins took another swell.

"No, I'm fine." I replied.

"This was just dropped off for you," he then said coming in further and placing the brown cardboard box on my desk.

"Is it a bomb?" I asked without much enthusiasm. For really that was all that was missing.

"Would explain why the delivery guy ran off so quickly," Dad drolled.

"Might also have to do with the way you look," I quipped and he smirked.

"You _know_ that you can talk to me, Edward. We always were able to talk." He then said in a serious tone, his blue eyes both worried and reassuring.

"I know." We were. I just couldn't verbalise everything. There was a compatibility pack missing between my mind and my vocal chords.

"Alright well…I'm going back to my breakfast. Try not scaring the neighbours again with that." Dad glanced at my stereo. "They will start to think we have plans of world domination."

"I think Alice has that turf covered."

He let out a laugh and said, "You might be on to something there. Oh, and Edward." I turned my head looking at him in the doorway. "It's _Saturday_," he said with a grin and then disappeared out of my sight.

_Saturday._ I didn't have to mull to know what he meant that mom made a traditional English breakfast. It had been on the menu ever since I could remember. Eggs, bacon, grilled tomatoes, fried mushrooms, sausages and toast. The thought alone made my stomach grumble and mouth water as I realised I was hungry. Running ten miles on an almost empty stomach had perhaps not been the best of ideas.

First the mystery package though. I got up and walked to the suspiciously unassuming looking box. I picked it up and noted it was heavier than expected. The sticker on top held my name and my parents' address. There were but a few people that knew to find me here. I raised my eyebrows and grabbed the letter opener from one of the drawers setting it in the brown tape that was holding the two flaps of the box together. It slid open effortlessly and I peered inside. On top there was a note.

_Aloha!_

_I must tell you again that I truly __do__ love you and so does Liam! The two weeks in Hawaii were… how to put it. I'll spare you the details of what went down in the hotel room and…also outside it, but let me tell you, you do not want sand in some places. Other than that my libido thanks you for the tickets! _

_I'm back in LA and back at your disposal. Lauren keeps stalking me with phone calls. Apparently you are being, I quote: _"Weird and unresponsive". _Are you being weird and unresponsive? You probably are. But, ech, you pay my wages so I suppose knock yourself out. Don't like her anyway. _

_I'm sending you some clothes (and a pair of woman's panties, you philanderer!) and other stuff you left at the apartment in the UK. And I must tell you __again__ that you should get yourself a permanent address. You cannot keep living out of a suitcase. Especially if you scatter its contents all over the world! Also there is just something dodgy about rented cutlery. _

_I replied to your mail, issued a few statements about your disappearing act, and booked you a ticket for the fifth (look in the box) and arranged for a room at the W. What else…I think that's about it. Call me when you need anything and I will see you the 5__th__. (Car is picking you up at LAX). _

_Aloha! (Did you know that it means hello AND goodbye?) _

_Maggie_

_PS. Look in the box! If you're not going to Hawaii, Maggie brings Hawaii to you. _

I folded the note and peered in the box, before pulling out a Hula girl dashboard shaker. Despite my mood I couldn't help but chuckle and set the toy on the desk giving it a little jolt with my finger. It bobbled from side to side, the green hula skirt swaying with the movement. So perhaps I didn't hate the _whole _world. Where Lauren made my world go round, Maggie kept me sane. Next to my family she was one of the few who saw the good, the bad, and the ugly of Edward Cullen. One of the few with whom I didn't have to pretend. One of the few that made me laugh. One of the few I trusted. And one I missed at the moment.

I took out the clothes and found the lace panties she had mentioned. How tidy of me, letting my assistant clean up after me. I wondered whether Heidi wanted them back. Mailing them was perhaps somewhat strange, returning them in person perhaps even more. I was sure her current boyfriend would love either option. Not that he had much reason to hate me. I was not Heidi's long lost love, nor she mine. We had been two people with physical attraction to one another, who had efficiently satisfied each other's carnal needs when unattached and in the neighbourhood. Heidi was gorgeous and smart and most of all she always told me exactly what she wanted. There was no running hot and then cold. No hiding. No drama. Heidi didn't make me itch or want me crawl up the walls. Every man's dream: A Victoria's Secret model that was neither complicated nor needy.f

And yet, even though I had seen her on and off for three years, I didn't love her. Instead I had loved the wonderful simplicity that came with interacting with her. Of course I cared, but in the end not enough to be bothered by anything she did or didn't do. We didn't fight because there was nothing to fight about. And when it was time for our paths to part again, there was no heartbreak. It was fine, just like it was, or rather wasn't.

I had become spoilt over the years. Maybe that was why I was in such a pitifully lost state now. I just didn't know _how _to go about things they went from a simple 2 + 2 to a game of blind three-dimensional chess. Either my intellect was lacking or it was outrageous to begin with. It seemed Bella had thrown my brain into a meat grinder. I sighed. And the most frustrating thing was that I had _no _idea what it was about her sang to me in such an overpowering way. It was a physical pull, a physical need, but not like anything else I had ever experienced. Never had anyone set me on fire with one look, one simple hesitant touch.

Without another glance I tossed the flimsy lace in the bin. No sentiments, no nostalgia, the last string effortlessly snipped in two. With this the muddy sediment that I would probably never be able to just snip off Bella washed on the shores of my mind. I liked to think that it was puberty catching up with me finally and bestowing me with a stupid emotional crush, but deep down I couldn't lie to myself. She had burnt me and the scar would never disappear, no matter how things ended, or where and with whom it was I was going to be in fifty years.

The interest in my belongings was lost. I flung the plane ticket on my desk and threaded my fingers through my damp and knotted hair.

"Can we play _now_?"

My head flicked around at the exasperated question and I found myself staring at Lily's close-to-murderous facial expression. Was she _ever_ going to leave me alone? I was starting to get sick of this babysitter role I had all too willingly taken upon me.

"No."

"But—"

"Lily Anne Cullen, so help me God…" I started through clenched teeth but could not find it in me to finish the sentence, "I really don't want to play right now."

"_When_ then?" she whined.

"Oh don't you mind your grumpy uncle. Auntie Alice will play with you." I couldn't say I was directly unhappy to see Alice in my doorway, her bell like voice reverberating in the room. I hadn't heard that she had come home.

"Yay!" Lily bounced.

"Yay!" Alice squealed as well, "but don't you want to go down the stairs now and say hi to your mommy and daddy?"

She didn't have to be told twice and flitted out of my room and out of my sight like she had been stung by a bee. A few moments later I heard her high-pitched squeal and Emmett's roar as the two were reunited.

"Thank you," I mouthed to Alice who was now quietly standing in the doorway.

"It's fine." She shrugged her tiny shoulders studying her shoes. Just like that I realised I couldn't be mad at her forever.

"How was the wedding?" I asked, hoping that she would take the hint I was not excommunicating her anymore.

"It was good." She smiled. "We had a great time. I caught the bouquet. Jasp—it was good." Several things coursed through me at once. Alice and Jasper walking down the aisle. The fact that she tried so hard to not mention him to me, my best friend, as if he were a pariah and that she was still standing in my doorway as if she was just caught stealing the neighbours' apples. I once again felt like the bad guy. Was there _nothing_ I could do well?

"You can say his name, Shorty," I sighed, "and you can come in."

"Does that mean that you are not mad anymore?" she asked warily, entering the room, but not quite nearing me as if I could pounce at any moment.

"I'm—" I would lie if I said I wasn't, but I wasn't being consumed by it anymore. "I'm trying not to be."

And then she was suddenly plastered against me, her arms squeezing the life out of me, like two boa constrictors around my waist. I let out a sigh, an irritated brotherly one.

"You can let go now," I grumbled. Yet, as she looked up at me with that cheeky little twinkle in her blue eyes I knew she took it just as it was meant to be, with a grain of salt and a smile.

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked disentangling herself from my frame. "The plane food was just blegh. Jasp-" She eyed me and it took some restraint not to flinch at the way his name left her lips. I didn't however and she continued, "Jasper ate his and mine and said it was the best plane tuna he had ever had. The term _plane tuna_ says it all. So… I'm starved and it's _Saturday_!" So I kept hearing and truth was I could probably eat a horse.

"I haven't eaten yet," I answered and thought about what I was going to say to Jasper who was probably downstairs. My indignation with him ran deeper, whether fair or not, but I couldn't leave him in the dog house entirely while Alice and I were on the mending path.

"He's not here," she said, plucking my thoughts right out of my mind. "He didn't want to…I don't know frankly what he's thinking. He's been a bit odd since last week. I think he might feel it's too weird for you…" she shook her head with a grave sigh, too grave for little, happy Alice. "Anyway. Let's go eat real food." She patted my stomach and skipped out of my room. I stood there for a bit longer. Somehow Jasper and I had to make it work. For our sake and for Alice's and for those around us. He was a constant in my life and he always was going to be. But it was up to us, or me at this point, to indicate how much of a constant.

"Edward!" Alice yelled from the stairs, "Did you grow roots or something? If all the sausages are gone I'm holding you personally responsible! Don't forget that _Emmett_ is in the house!"

Right. Sausages. I sighed and moved my feet.

"Coming!"

* * *

Three eggs, four sausages, and the longest half hour later I finished the last of my orange juice. I was surrounded by my siblings and niece, and grabbed Lily's wrist as it hovered over my plate. In her hand she held what I imagined to be a new load of her loathed _"shrooms"_. Frankly, I couldn't see another fried _shroom_ myself. I was just too full.

"I don't want your _shrooms_," I told her, "Give them to your dad."

"Lily, stop playing with your food," Rosalie interjected, "Put those mushrooms back and stop torturing Edward."

I eyed her warily. Defence usually didn't come from that angle. Rosalie did nothing if not enjoy agonising me. It had been always like that and it was fine. I pulled her hair with pleasure as well. It sort of came with the job description. Jasper pestered my little sister, and I his, even though Rosalie was technically a whole two minutes older.

"What?" She shrugged flinging a luscious blonde curl over her shoulder, "You look pitiable. What am I? A sadist?"

"Well…" I shrugged and Emmett burst out in laughter hitting my back with his flat hand and nearly making me drop my glass.

Rosalie raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow before pointing at her husband with an equally perfect nail and said: "Doghouse."

It was my time to laugh. It was highly entertaining to see a guy with Emmett's demeanour being whipped into shape by a woman not half his size. A little princess, like Rosalie nevertheless. Not that she had ever been a real princess. If you didn't watch out for her claws, it could happen that you ended up with an eye hanging out of its socket. The idea that there was a time when her parents wanted nothing more but for us to ride into the sunset together, was blatantly ridiculous. The woman was like a black widow. I doubted I would have survived the wedding night.

"And what are _you _laughing about?" she taunted me, "Don't you have anything to be miserable about?"

If it had been anyone other than her, that comment would probably have stung. Seeing that it was Rosalie and we weren't capable of loving brother/sister-in-law interaction it just made me smirk.

"Don't worry. I can multitask," I quipped and realised I had missed her much more than I had thought. And as she pursed her lips to contain her smile I knew she had missed me, too.

"Did I just hear your stone heart beat?" I asked with a wink.

"Oh get yourself a girlfriend already." She rolled her golden eyes.

"Did you hear anything from Bella?" Alice, who till now had been surprisingly quiet, suddenly asked and every pair of eyes in the room, except for Lily's – who was too busy building a house from toast and humming itsy bitsy spider – was directed at me.

"Who's Bella?" Emmett asked biting a sausage in two, "Did you pick up an Italian chick? Cause that's _hot_!"

Lily stopped her hum and looked up at him with big auburn question marks. Rosalie cleared her throat and flung a piece of toast at his head.

"What? I meant in Italy…" he clarified, picking up the toast Rose had just thrown at him and popping it in his mouth before leaning in to meet his daughter at eyelevel. "It gets hot in Italy, honey, cause it's in Eu-rope."

"Classy, Emmett," Alice giggled.

"Glad to see that my niece is going to grow up with the proper emancipated image of the role of women all over the world," I said.

"Oh she _will_," Rosalie insisted squinting her fierce eyes at her husband, who just grinned at her in adoration. I wasn't sure whether to gag or to be awed.

"Don't worry." I patted his shoulder, getting up for a coffee refill. "I'm sure Mom will let you stay in your old room."

"We can paint each other's toenails and gossip about Alice and watch _the_ _Notebook_ and then hold each other as we cry," Emmett mused.

"Just like the old days." I grinned returning to my spot.

"So _have _you?" Alice asked impatiently wobbling in her chair and again everyone was staring at me. it was unsettling. I directed my own glance at the black liquid in my mug and put my full attention at stirring the imaginary sugar in it.

"What?" I asked in a weak attempt to get her off my back.

"_Bella._ Remember? The girl who didn't want to give you her number?" Alice provided a helping hand and it was Rosalie's turn to laugh like she was possessed.

"_Thanks_ for that reminder." I rolled my eyes at her.

"_Weeeeell?_" Alice stretched.

"You're like a tick, do you know that?" I grumbled.

"Do share, Eddie, who is this _sensible _creature that has turned you down. I need to have lunch with her." Rosalie laughed and this time I really did want to hit her square in the head with a spatula. Instead I just left the breakfast bar. My teasing limit was surpassed by a mile.

I returned to my room with my mug and laid down on the chaise, briefly closing my eyes, only to be interrupted by a soft knock. Why was this always the inevitable pattern?

"Go away, Alice," I called. Of course she wouldn't listen. The door squeaked open. How predictable.

"You okay?" I opened my eyes processing the voice, not _Alice's_ voice, addressing me. Perhaps not as predictable.

"I'm fine," I answered through clenched teeth wishing the blonde bane of my existence to a far uninhabited island _without_ her eyeliner.

"You don't look fine," Rosalie said sitting down on my bed and crossing her legs before her.

"Whatever, Rose, just leave me alone. You don't _need_ to pretend like you give a shit about any of this. Frankly, _you_ are the irritating factor at the moment so just… go," I replied with quiet disdain and sipped from my mug, without looking at her.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings," Rosalie recited as if she was writing "I will never stick gum under my desk again" for the hundredth time on the blackboard.

"That was…heartfelt." I rolled my eyes.

"Take it or leave it, Grumpward."

"Rosalie… just piss off," I all but begged, "I know you can't help it, but really, today I'm not in the mood."

"So she didn't give you her number. Big deal. Like you have trouble getting laid. I don't get why you are in such a tizzy over this."

"She _did_ give me her number," I answered, racking my brain as to why I was explaining this to her in the first place. "And why I'm in a _tizzy_ over this, is not because I have trouble getting laid. It's because I _like_ her and on a good day I think she likes me, too. But it so happens to be that every time I get remotely close, she can't get far enough from me. And I have no idea what's going on. Go ahead laugh and then get the hell out of my room."

She didn't laugh, nor did she say anything. As I glanced at her to see whether she was still breathing I saw a frown creasing her smooth forehead as she thought. I raised an eyebrow.

"By all means, don't hurt yourself."

"I'm sorry about what I said. I just thought—" She shrugged and then dropped her shoulders guiltily. I knew that Rosalie would never consciously cross lines that didn't need crossing. I knew that, despite our ostensibly less than affectionate interplay, she cared for me as I cared for her.

"It's fine…" I sighed.

"Really, I didn't mean it," she insisted playing with the hem of my comforter.

"I know. I'm sorry for being in such a bad mood. I just have no idea what I'm doing wrong. It's like _everything_ I do is wrong."

"What makes you think you are doing anything wrong?" She asked and I furrowed my brow.

"Simple physics. Action and reaction. I lean in to kiss her and she looks at me like I'm about to slice her throat."

"Did it ever cross your mind that it might be _her_? That in fact, her running hot and cold has nothing to do with you? Not directly? Maybe she's playing hard to get. If it's her intention to get you all hot and bothered… I think it's working.""

I grimaced. _That_ was the one thing that hadn't crossed my mind. Somehow I didn't see Bella as someone who liked to play games. I couldn't imagine her to be as good of an actress to look petrified for fun.

"No. I don't think she is." I rubbed my face.

"Or…" Rosalie continued, "She really has difficulty to let you in. Wouldn't be the first woman having trouble trusting a guy." She added softly studying her hands. I glanced at her, looking strangely timid. I knew all about Rosalie's hardships and her more than fair share of doubt towards the male population. Could it be that Bella had been hurt, too? If that was the case, then it was still _me _going about everything the wrong way. Coming on way too strong.

"Even _if_ that is the case," she continued, "it doesn't mean you don't have a chance….just don't play games with her."

"Do I _ever_?" I asked turning my head to look at her with raised eyebrows.

"I've known you long enough to know that you're not a saint, no matter how many ditsy fan girls hang a halo over your head." Rosalie laughed.

"I'm not in high school anymore, Rose."

"No you're not." She got up with a sly smile. "And even in high school you were … tolerable I guess. At least my _girlfriends _thought so."

I smirked. Would she ever get over the fact that I had never seen her as anything more than Jasper's sister? Not that she had ever wanted me, or had a lack of admirers for that matter, but for some reason it irritated the hell out of her that I didn't have at least a little crush on her.

"Yes, you had some nice friends. Very…_friendly_."

She glowered at me and I could almost hear her grind her teeth. I was very impressed when she didn't throw anything back at me. Be it a remark or a blunt object. Instead she drew in a deep breath and let it ride out again.

"Talk to her," she said eventually in a smooth voice. "Ask her. She might tell you more than you think. And don't expect everything to just… end with that. Small steps, sometimes backwards. But if you _really_ like her, then fight for her. "

With that, she got up and was almost out the room before I called out her name.

"Rosie!"

"It's _really_ hard to be _nice_ to you when you are being a smug ass," she said before turning around in all her striking glory, arms crossed in front of her chest and eyebrows raised, her golden eyes burning in mine.

"Thank you." I smiled silently enjoying the confusion that spread across her stunning face.

"Oh." Her demeanour faltered for a moment, lips freezing in a little circle, till she regained composure. "Whatever."

I chuckled as she left and let out a deep sigh setting my eyes on no point in particular in the garden, pondering her words.

_Talk to her._

Sounded easy enough…

* * *

The sun was already setting when I had finally mustered enough guts to get into my car and go see Bella. Talking to her sounded simple enough, but I had no idea how to start, what to say. I had gone over it in my mind countless times, rewriting the script from one ridiculous he-said/she-said libretto to another, only to give up and admit that it was just going to be an improvisation like most things in life. However, with Bella, I couldn't anticipate her reactions. What if I would only make it worse?

I parked the Volvo close to the promenade, deciding to walk the last bit. That way I could clear my head. I was there too fast for my liking, and crossed the street to find myself right in front of her store. Once again I hesitated, my hands remaining deep in the pockets of my coat as I stared at the door knob. The sign on the glass read_ Open_. It did so quite often, but then the moment I tried to actually enter, it would miraculously change to _Closed._

The door swung open then as if the prove me wrong, the little bell chiming and a young couple stepped into the cold street. The woman leant into the man's embrace as the cold weather hit them, the paper bag with her purchase clutched against her. She turned her head and looked me right in the eye, her own eyes widening with surprise as she shook her head and let out a laugh.

"I swear you look just like… never mind." She blushed a light crimson before turning around again and strutting down the street with her man. I couldn't help but chuckle and watched them turn the corner, before settling my eyes back on the dreadful door again. The sign still read_ Open_, the door was closed, but apparently it was capable of opening as I had just witnessed. Then again, could have been just a smart trick to make me fall on my face once again. I sighed. I had to either go in or go away. I was starting to resemble a robber on the look out.

So I took that final step and set my hand on the door knob. It turned and the door opened a fraction without any resistance. I pushed it further and the bell protested against the nudge with a melodious din. Once inside I closed the door, shutting out the lacklustre November. Inside it was warm and quiet. I didn't see a soul till a lanky tall man with hair that rivalled Bella's in length came my way and I recognised him as Bella's employee. Daniel? Derek? It had been something with a D.

"Can I help you?" he asked. In fact he could. Perhaps they had _"How to get through to Bella Swan for Dummies" _stacked away somewhere.

"I'm looking for Bella, actually," I replied. Dave! That was his name.

Before he could reply she appeared from behind a bookshelf, fighting the sleeves of her coat.

"I'm just going to run to –" She stopped mid sentence and dead in her tracks upon seeing me, one arm raised in the air ready to be stuffed in the dark blue sleeve that was now limply hanging down halfway.

"Edward," she breathed, staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hi." I managed a smile and glanced up at Dave to indicate that I wanted to talk to her in private.

"I'll be in the back," he said and left. Bella turned to stare at his back longingly. She didn't even want to be alone with me in one space. _Get on with it, _I told myself.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you," I said and her eyes met mine again, confused and nervous. "Do you have time for a little walk?"

"I – yes. Okay." She nodded finishing putting on her coat and taking her time to button it up. I held the door open for her and we both stepped outside, the little chime of the bell being swept away by the wind before it could fully announce our departure.

We strolled towards the water in silence. The promenade was as good as deserted. It was too cold and windy to enjoy a simple stroll just to watch the sunset, no matter how beautiful. The colours were surreal; even brighter than they had been this morning.

"The tide rises, the tide falls, the twilight darkens, the curlew calls," Bella recited swiftly cutting through the silence between us, then briefly smiled at my curious expression and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Henry Wadsworth Longfellow," she explained shyly, "I love this time of day on the beach."

"It's beautiful," I agreed, "Cold…but beautiful."

"It is cold, isn't it?" She shivered for emphasis and looked out over the water again as we strolled along the shoreline, just out of the reach of the waves.

The wind toyed with her hair and I swallowed back a sting of jealousy. I wanted to be the one who ran his fingers through her locks. I drew in a deep breath to work myself up to ask her what I came here to ask her.

"About last night…" I started.

"I didn't mean to offend you," Bella said softly before I could finish my thought. I wasn't sure whether the wind diluted her words or she really uttered them quietly, bashfully. I shook my head.

"You didn't _offend_ me. You…" I searched for the right word. "Bella, you so thoroughly confuse me. I just can't figure you out and that makes me feel like an idiot _most_ of the time."

"I-I'm sorry." She shook her head, her foot getting caught behind a loose stone. I automatically reached out to steady her, my hand wrapping around her upper arm till she set a few shaky but coordinated steps with the clunky boots she was wearing.

"Don't apologise. Just…talk to me. _Please_ tell me what's bothering you. You need to give me some sort of guidance here. Or tell me to piss off, because I think it's meticulously clear that I can't stay away from you on my own accord." I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath at the sudden burst that had fled me before I could react. I was an actor for fuck's sake. I could control my bloody emotions.

Bella was quiet, too quiet. I glanced at her, shame, fright, nerviness all displayed on her beautiful face, but the big question remained. What was it that had her cringe away from me like this? It couldn't all be shyness. As the distress clouded her soft brown eyes I was fairly certain it wasn't just an inhibited girl having trouble opening up to a guy. Rosalie was right. There had to be more.

"I just… this can never work, Edward," she replied bashfully stopping her saunter and staring at her podgy boots on the ground.

"It can't?" I echoed raising my eyebrows. "Why not?"

"I'm just… not from your world. I can never be as pretty or as spontaneous. I can barely string a proper sentence together and I'm uncoordinated! How many times now did you have to catch me in the time we know each other?" I would happily catch her a couple more times. What was the problem?

"I own a little bookstore and in the evenings I lie on the couch and watch BBC series … while you jet set the world and _star_ in them." I just stared at her, too dumbfounded to interrupt as she went on listing all the ridiculous things that were wrong with her.

"My life is just…I am …boring, Edward. I'm not… it won't," she shrugged turning away.

"Don't you think I should be the judge of that?" I wondered aloud at last. "Besides, the excitement of my life is severely overrated."

"Two people should at least be on a similar footing…" she shook her head. "And you are way out of my league." She gestured in the air as if my place was with the seagulls that were circling over the water with shrill cries.

"You are being absurd, Bella," I scoffed. Where did she get her ideas?

"See? On top of all, I'm absurd! I am! I'm absurd and I'm uncoordinated!" she splayed her arms, a gust of wind blowing up her shining tresses and flaring them around her face, for dramatic effect. My hand twitched, ready to catch her as if the wind could blow her over at any time.

"I have a cat!" She then interjected. I raised an eyebrow and bit down on my lip as to not laugh.

"I suppose we are doomed then…" Letting out a grave sigh I steered my gaze to my shoes.

"Stop making fun of me, I'm serious," Bella groaned, her bottom lip slightly protruded in a pout.

"Ha!" I let out a humourless laugh and ran a hand through my hair. _Serious._ Deranged was more like it. "You don't see yourself very clearly, do you? Or me for that matter."

"I do…" She replied.

"I don't think you do." I was dreading a yes-it-is-no-it-isn't discussion, but the fierceness of her next statement shut me up.

"I _do_," she insisted, "Look at you. You are every girl's dream." I rolled my eyes. She was probably the only one who could make that sound like an insult.

"You _are_… It's not enough that you are beautiful. You also have to be articulate and well-bred, witty and charming. You have to hold open doors and say thank you and please. And you have to look at the little world at your feet with not an ounce of arrogance or conceit. You have to be artistic while I can't even draw a stick figure for the life of me and you _must _have an astute mind that I will probably never understand let alone keep up with. Oh and right …you are apparently the next big thing on the big screen. Laugh all you want. I googled you! The mere idea that I _can_ google you! My server nearly crashed." She finished with a huff and looked out over the water. I couldn't have laughed had I wanted to. I was stunned into silence. It sounded awfully a lot like she was resenting me for the fact that she _couldn't _pin anything on me. I could easily help her out.

"Like I said…you don't see me very clearly," I muttered.

"Oh don't be modest," Bella grumbled kicking a pebble.

"I'm not _modest,_" I all but hissed. I couldn't help myself. This sheer powerlessness to make her see was enraging me. It was more years of pent up frustration than her little comment, but nevertheless it drove me mad. "Just because I have been dealt a certain hand… just because that's what _you_ see, it hardly makes me the embodiment of perfection. Please, believe me.

"You just see the – it's camouflage, Bella. A sparkle that only goes skin-deep and that is fuelled by the whole dehumanising frenzy about me. If that weren't there I doubt you would notice me on the street, or think I was so faultless. It's an illusion that people choose to believe, a character they choose to love. In the end, I cannot live up to either. Ridiculous as it sounds…I just don't exist. Not in the way I'm perceived anyway."

"I doubt someone couldn't notice you, Edward. You look like you belong in a different world, a more beautiful one. You just draw people in. It's frightening how much you—" Bella cut off her thought biting her lip. "Everything about you. Your voice, your face, even your smell…" She blushed. It was all but obscured by the rosiness from the cold but I could see it deepening, "Do you really think it's just a coincidence that you are where you are at now?"

I thought about her words for a while. I doubted I would be where I was if not for my looks. Had this opportunity not been handed to me, I wouldn't have pursued it myself. Had I not seen it as the only way to fill in the concrete void of vacillation about my future, I wouldn't have taken it in the first place.

"I suppose not," I then answered, "but that is not my point. You see something that isn't there, or perhaps you don't see what _is _there. In the end I'm just a guy, Bella. I am grumpy in the morning. I cut myself shaving more often than I would like to admit. I have a temper and it's not always directed towards the right people. I eat cookies in bed and have to get my ass to the gym the next day, because yes, it takes work to look like this." I glanced her way to see her reaction, but her hair flared in front of her face, successfully hiding her from me. I took a step, hopping on the stone balustrade with ease, the water purling beneath me.

"Then of course, my best friend and I are not speaking and I'm pretty sure today," I continued, "Lily hates my guts. I have no place that I call _my_ home and I am afraid that my so called talent is not talent at all. You said it yesterday. I needn't try. Looking at me is enough. I'm just waiting for someone to realise that there is just nothing special about my appearance, or that my looks will go, and then they will discover I _can't _act at all and I'll be just another has been. I will have achieved exactly nothing useful and be just the shadow of someone who was famous for a while. I am today's shiny toy that will be under the bed by next week." I turned to face her. She was staring up at me, squinting in the wind, her hand on the railing. It almost looked as if she was ready to catch me would I happen to fall.

"Fuck, Bella, even Gandhi wasn't perfect and he had a few qualities _everyone_ should aspire to some extent. So if my parents' combined DNA that turned out to be my face is scaring you… I beg you to reconsider."

It was silent for a while, only the sloshing of the waves against the concrete and the wind riding them on the background. I stepped down leaning against the iron rail with my back now as the colourful paint of the sky tinted the water of the Sound with oranges and reds for the second time that day.

I never thought that I had to list all my imperfections to get a girl to consider me. Then again it seemed to fit. Everything with Bella was backwards. Quite literally my world was upside down. She let out a musical laugh that had me gauge in confusion.

"And there went your articulacy," she quipped.

"What can I say? I'm not perfect." I smirked and she chuckled scrunching her nose lightly. My stomach jumbled at the image and once again I had to restrain the urge to kiss her senseless.

"And I don't think that," she said demurely, her smile gone. "I don't think that it's just about your looks… or shouldn't be at least. You have a very strange but deep understanding of the human mind, you can make it your own unlike anything I've seen."

"Funny," I deadpanned. That understanding was severely malfunctioning when it came to Bella Swan. "I'm still trying to fit your cat into your predicament about us."

I waited for her to explain. She had just indicated herself she didn't think I was stupid, then why did she think I would buy this crap? Maybe she didn't, I realised. Maybe she hoped I would see it myself and she didn't have to voice it. I had to disappoint her. I could not read her mind, no matter how much I wanted to.

"What are you _really_ afraid of, Bella?" I asked coming to face her, my hands resting on either side of her on the railing. She would not escape me again.

"What is a lamb in a lion's cage afraid of…." She said softly after a short silence and I furrowed my eyebrows at her little euphemism.

"Being eaten?" I took her bait, for lack of anything else to take.

"Let's just say I've been on the menu before," Bella muttered and just like that I had my answer. I sighed. Feeling even more horrible about the way I had left things the previous night. I took a step back, releasing her from the prison of my arms.

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head, turning around and slinging her arms around herself in a tight hug. She looked so vulnerable now, so small and I fought the urge to swallow her in an embrace. She was wrong, too. It _did_ matter. I couldn't bring myself to ask her what exactly happened. I didn't want to push her, even though the not knowing drove me mad.

The thought alone that someone might have touched a hair on her head made my stomach turn. Violence against women had perhaps an even bigger sting in my family than it normally already would. My mother's first husband had made sure of that and even though Carlisle was the kindest soul she could have ever met and she was happy, she was never going to be able to erase those years of pain.

And then there was Rosalie. Royce King had been less than a perfect boyfriend and he liked to emphasise his words with his fists. All those volleyball accidents, the constant falling off stairs and slipping in showers. Just thinking back, it made me grind my teeth. Jasper had nearly killed him when he found out. As I had sped through Seattle to find him before he actually could, I had a very difficult time coming up with reasons why he shouldn't.

Despite having lived this, seen this up close, I still was out of words, as emotions coiled under my skin like the traitorous currents beneath the surface of the luminescent sea.

"Bella…" I set a hand on her shoulder and she lifted it, wanting to shrug me off but stopping herself. She turned to face me. I didn't see sadness in her eyes, nor pain. They were empty.

"I don't want to talk about it, Edward," she sighed, her voice tired somehow, my hand still on her shoulder. I drew her closer and she let me as melancholy seeped in the warm brown of her eyes and she closed them leaning her head against my shoulder.

"That's okay," I assured her resting my chin atop of her head. For now, "I'm so sorry for the way I acted yesterday. There is no excuse," I apologised stroking her hair, "I was a jerk."

"You're not a jerk." She shook her head. "That was my fault. I just… you caught me off guard."

That guard had been up in no time, however. I wanted her to lower that guard. I wanted her to relax, but as I held her rigid frame, I knew that that was a lot to ask.

"That was a jerky reaction, ergo I'm a jerk. You don't have to placate this."

"Stop," she mumbled in my coat. "It was not jerky. It was _human._ Didn't you just say you weren't perfect?"

I chuckled in her hair. Touché.

I could have stood like that with her forever. It was almost soothing to have her in my arms. The tantalizing strawberry scent in her chocolate tresses was mouth-watering and having her this close, in my embrace, I knew that nothing bad could happen. She couldn't trip and fall, she couldn't get hurt. It was close to surpassing ridiculous in how protective of her I was becoming.

"I should go back," she sighed, pushing me away lightly by setting her hands on my chest. I released her and nodded. Forever had the ugly tendency to end prematurely.

"So we're good about last night?" I asked to make sure.

"Yes." She said burying her hands back in the pockets of her coat. "We are. Did you come by car?"

"Yeah, it's parked at the beginning of the promenade." I nodded South, a million questions and the reluctance to say goodbye already swimming in my head.

"Okay. Well… See you." Bella bit her lip. I wondered _when_ I was going to see her again, but decided to settle for the opening "see you" held opposed to goodbye.

I replied in kind and smiled at her. With a little wave she started to walk away from me and I rocked back on my heels fighting the urge to follow her, silently urging her to look back at me. I didn't know what that would add to the whole situation, but somehow her looking back just once felt imperative. The first indication that the tide was turning.

"Look back at me," I muttered boring my eyes in her back. Yet, she didn't turn back and I shook my head at my own absurdity before turning around and starting the chilly saunter back to the Volvo.

I was almost at my car when I heard someone call my name. I turned around only to see Bella running towards me. She hopped over a puddle, nearly losing her balance in the sluggish old boots and finally came to a halt not three feet before me. Her cheeks were rosy, little clouds of breath escaping her mouth into the cool air as she panted, eyes wide and beautiful.

I smirked at her with a frown as she attempted to catch her breath. She took in a last deep gulp of air and strode up to me, closing the gap between us. Before I could fully register what was happening her hands were on my face and she raised herself on her tiptoes pressing her lips to mine. My heart stilled debating how to proceed, unsure whether thrashing wildly or arresting entirely was the more appropriate response for the situation. And I could only think of one thing. Her lips_ were_ soft . Like silk.

And then it was over, as sudden as it had happened. Her lips released mine, her hands slid off my cheeks and she looked me in the eye with eyes the size of my favourite chocolate chip cookies before a scarlet coloured her face.

"I _don't_ want you to stay away, okay?" She said with a firmness in her voice I very much admired at the moment. I could only stare back unsure of my facial expression. My face was numb. I nodded.

"I just need… time. You're a lot to process."

I opened my mouth to respond, to tell her that it was okay. That I wasn't in a rush, but she put her hand over my mouth before I could do so.

"Please, don't say anything or I'll loose my nerve," she told me, "I _do _like you and you _aren't _an idiot. If anything… it scares me how much of an idiot you aren't. I'm going to spend Thanksgiving with my father in Forks. Can I call you when I'm back in Seattle? Will you still be here?"

I nodded again, her hand still muffling me.

"Okay." Bella drew in a deep breath and let it ride out again. "Okay," she muttered, as if this second affirmation was meant for her alone. She released me, and as I licked my lips I could taste her on my tongue; coffee and dark chocolate.

"Can I say something now?" I asked, my voice sounding strangely foreign in my ears.

"No." She shook her head with a chuckle. "No, you can't. My ten seconds of bravery are running out. I have to go. Happy Thanksgiving." I let out a soft laugh, too dazed still, lost at what else to do at her strange behaviour. Her flushed face was lovely, as were her full sweet lips and how I wanted to taste her again. She started to back away and then turned around. The last thing I caught was her lip being captured between her teeth.

"Happy Thanksgiving," I muttered as she disappeared out of sight. I leant against the car for support. What the hell had just happened? As the numbness in my body slowly subsided, making way for a rush of heat and relief that made every pore of my being tingle, realisation hit and a smile spread over my face.

She had looked back at me.

_To be continued..._

* * *

**AN: Phew. You have made it to the end! Now I know that this has taken some time, but please take another little minute to leave me a comment. Thank you. :)**


	7. Breaking Dawn

**A/N: So... I'm not dead (though not thanks to the angry tram driver or my coordination skills). Was not abducted by any alien life forms. Every run-in with an inanimate object seeking my destruction has been dealt with accordingly. Have finished my thesis. Finished school…then started it again. My coffee maker _still _works. So all in all, there is no excuse that can make up for the FOUR months that it took to push out this chapter other than that I was sitting in front of a writer's block the size of Brazil. And just so to make it clearer: Brazil encompasses 3,286,488 square miles. That's _a lot _of miles. And even more kilometres. **

**I'd like to give a special thanks to SunKing for being my friend, my cheerleader, and my critic, whilst publishing a novel, writing a second one, and posting some of the best fanfiction this site has seen. If not for her, my writer's block might have been Russia. **

**Another special thanks goes out to all of you, who read, reviewed, PM'ed me, and never lost faith. For those whose expectations I have damaged, I'm not so good with superglue, but I'll try to mend it. **

**So I shall go bite my nails now awaiting your reaction (and you are in your full right to take four months over a review… I suppose, I deserve it.). **

**Sincerely, **

**Alverdine**

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything but my chaotic mind (and everything it produces (on a good day). Do not take credit for any structural damage.)).

_**THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED SINCE :) (thank you, hmonster4 for the beta-ing)**_

_Chapter 7:__ Breaking Dawn_

_-B-  
____________________________________________________

About three things I was absolutely positive: First, there was something wrong with this yogurt I was having for breakfast. Second, my father still had the same jar of jam from my visit five months ago in the fridge, so I was not _surprised_ that there was something wrong with this yogurt I was having for breakfast. And third, considering the way I had left things with Edward, I didn't _care_ that there was something wrong with this yogurt I was having for breakfast. I was mortified and confused. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing his face before me, his eyes a strange electrifying teal blue; his features coated with frustration and wonder, and dare I say, bewilderment as the wind played with his bronze mane. I could not forget the fixed line of his jaw, the soft flaring of his nostrils as he took in my words. I could not forget the clenching of my heart when he lashed out in frustration and for a moment he looked like a beautiful bird with clipped wings and all that had crossed through my mind was that I wanted to hold him.

I sighed and dropped the spoon back in the bowl running my fingers through my hair. I could not forget the taste of his cold lips, the feel of the faint stubble on his cheeks against my palms, the way every single tendon and muscle in his body had tensed and his breath hitched as I'd kissed him. I had kissed him. _I _had kissed _him._ And he thought _he_ was surprised. By the time I'd gotten back to the shop my legs had felt wobbly, my heart beat in my chest in painful hollow thuds and I'd trouble remembering the exact intention behind my actions. If it had been to confuse myself even more, I got an A+. My hand reached for the spoon again and I prodded in the goo in my bowl to channel the frustration.

"Christ…" I groaned and jumped up when my father cleared his throat. He stood in the doorway, and I couldn't help but blush as if I were speaking my thoughts out loud. Charlie was clad in his police uniform, ready for another day of law enforcement. Even though it was usually enough to threaten the local "thugs" with telling their mothers, Charlie took his task seriously and he was a respected man in the community. He was the quiet, grouchy, yet kind chief of police, and my heart often swelled with silent pride, though I had never spoken the words. I was proud of my Dad.

"There is something wrong with this yogurt," I said to direct the attention away from my burning cheeks. He furrowed his brow briefly and then made way to the coffee pot on the counter, holding it up to me as one eyebrow hitched in question. I nodded.

He sat down and we drank our beverages in ostensible silence. But it was not silent. The emptiness was filled by a myriad of noises. The ticking of the kitchen clock sounded as if someone was banging a knife on the counter, my sighs echoed like a typhoon, and Charlie clattered his spoon to the side of his mug with shrill clangs. Yet all this 'commotion'could not shut out Edward. _Can I say something now?_ He was flushed, breathless, beautiful. I had kissed him and the absurdity of the situation had made me strangely amused. Perhaps it had been the final stage before a thorough mental breakdown. Yep. _Bring on the bad yogurt. _I wish I could say I was out of my mind, but I was still in the confines of it. I was trying to squeeze myself through the bars but it was useless and it was wet here, and cold, and lonely. But every time I tried to dig my way out, the tunnel collapsed.

"So…" I looked up and Charlie cleared his throat, eyeing me with that look of confusion on his face. Did I really look as messed up as I felt?

"What are you going to do before dinner?" he asked. Dinner. I had all but forgotten about Sue's Thanksgiving dinner, though it was the major reason why I was in Forks. Charlie's girlfriend, for lack of better term, had gone out of her way to organise a Thanksgiving dinner. I had been surprised at first, since Natives bore a different sentiment towards the holiday, but Sue had proclaimed that it was a day of being grateful for each other and that she wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving with us all in her own way.

"I think I'll go see Jake," I answered. I drank the last of my coffee before standing up and dragging myself to the sink.

"Good. That's good." Charlie nodded then mimicked me and got up from the table. "Well…"

"Okay." I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his cheek. His moustache jumped slightly and he let out a friendly grunt before giving my shoulder an awkward yet loving pat, and left the house.

I did the dishes, swept the kitchen, and threw out three quarters of the food in Charlie's pitiable refrigerator. Then I trekked through the house, drinking in the familiarity and the little changes. The couch had moved a foot to the left. I couldn't resist pushing it back in place, but once I had done so I discovered exactly _why _it had been moved in the first place. I chuckled and pulled it back over the red stain, most likely spaghetti out of a can. I folded the blanket over the back and put the month old papers in a neat pile. It instilled in me a strange sense of calm, things had not changed much here.

My life used to be like this. Though less prone to food poisoning, it had been unchanging, safe. Comfortable like a pair of worn jeans. And then _he _barged into it and in a couple of short weeks made my existence an itchy wool sweater. I ran my hands through my hair. What was I going to do with that man? With myself? I had told him I needed time to think, but where was the use in that? The software was just not compatible. Edward's resolution was too high. Edward. Edward. Edward. I was developing a disorder. One that made my childhood home claustrophobic. I had to get out and see Jake. If someone could take my mind off Edward, it was him.

* * *

My hometown looked strange, as I drove through it in my Chevy Malibu. Everything was covered in white, shimmering in the pale rays of the last November sun. It was quite unlike itself under this glistering silver sheet that had come unusually early this year. It looked pure, clean, magical. A bit pretentious perhaps. After all, this was the logging capital of the world, not a picturesque little village in the French Alps living off of sunshine and croissants. And as untainted, as exquisite as it looked, I knew what lay underneath. The pavement was old and battered, offering enough opportunities to trip. The houses were simple and practical, much like the people living in them. And veiled under all those shimmering layers of white was the eternal green. Hide as it did, it could not conceal its true colours. It could pretend all it wanted; it was still Forks. Just Forks. And I had missed it.

Even though I'd only lived in Forks for a little over a year and a half before moving to Seattle, it left an imprint that lay hidden. Just like at the house I felt a bond with Forks. Two dormant, plain, little organisms that at times attempted to pretend they were something else, be it through a magical white cover, or through the words and actions of others. Underneath however, we were what we were. I took in a shaky breath as a sudden rush of panic, so frequent these days that I felt like I was running a fever, flooded my being. I could not possibly be with Edward. What was I thinking?! How could I be the xx-chromosome counterpart of _Edward Cullen_? Brad had Angelina, Tom had Katie, Antonio had Melanie, Demi had Ashton, and Edward would have _Bella_. That was like eating caviar with ketchup.

So he had said he was not perfect. I _knew_ he wasn't perfect. His humanity implied as much, though it was sometimes hard to believe that he was indeed a mere mortal. But that still left that I was nowhere near as "imperfect" as he. I was to Edward, what Forks was to New York City. Might Forks be even in the vicinity of New York, it would be swallowed whole and probably become a neighbourhood where not even the police would visit at night. It would not become a new shining centre of cosmopolitanism and bright neon lights. It was stupid to even start being delusional about it. Yet, even though getting lost in Edward proved about as romantic as getting lost in the Bermuda Triangle, I couldn't stop wanting him. I hardly knew him. I didn't trust him, but was pulled to him. It was an all-encompassing pull, like fighting to swim against the current . I was losing the battle and it scared me shitless.

* * *

Somehow I found myself in the Quileute reservation. The car spluttered to a halt, exhausted it seemed from the whirlpool of my thoughts and I made my way to the garage, where I had spent almost all of my free time during my senior year talking, laughing, and fixing bikes. Where everything was as difficult as the next ignition problem or a missing screw. The place hadn't changed a bit. I found Jacob on his back under some car. He stuck out one arm, feeling the ground for one tool or another.

"What can I get ya?" I asked with a smile.

He jerked up, colliding his head with the belly of the car and let out a curse. I laughed while he struggled from underneath, a bear of a man. I sometimes forgot that he was actually younger than me.

"Well I'll be damned! Bella Swan!" He barely took the time to wipe his hands on a dirty rag before closing the distance between us in exactly three big strides and gathered me in a bone wrenching embrace.

"Jake! You'll get me all dirty!" I laughed struggling in his grip.

"City girl!" he winked as I pressed a kiss to his cheek. Finally, he set me back on the ground. Still grinning he let his gaze wander over me and I spun in a circle.

"It's really me."

"So I see. When was the last time you were here, Bells? Feels like a century."

"If it's been that, then I look damn fine," I quipped and he barked a laugh, flashing his pearly teeth. I let out a deep sigh as the calm of old times washed over me like a warm blanket.

"You _do_ look damn fine." Jacob winked, leaning against the car he was fixing. I wrinkled my nose, stepping over some tools and let my hand run over his bike, remembering it was broken the last time I had seen him.

"Is it running again?" I asked.

"Yep. In the end, the culprit was just a blown fuse," he answered, but I hardly heard him. My thoughts were on the road, with the wind in my hair and the all encompassing roar of the engine soothing my frantic nerves.

"Don't even think about it, Bells. I love you, but I love myself more. If Charlie sees you on that bike, in the _snow_, it will be my intestines flying on the flag stick instead of the stars and bars tomorrow," Jacob warned and I couldn't help a pout. His stern face creased into grin and I chuckled.

"Come visit me in the summer. I'll take you for a ride. Maybe we can take a road trip down to Cali. " He looked at me, his eyes shimmering with excitement and he looked almost childlike again.

"Maybe…" I smiled. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then closed it shaking his head.

"What?" I asked, but he didn't answer. Suddenly he was in front of me.  
"Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked grabbing my hand. "Hit the beach?"

"It's cold…" I whined, but he had already pulled me out the door.

* * *

I sunk deeper in my coat, trying to hide my nose from the freezing wind before it could fall off. Jacob chuckled, wearing nothing but a ratty sweater, the sleeves pushed up over his bronze arms.

"How is it possible that you don't have hypothermia?" I asked my teeth clattering a bit as I spoke.

"It's a bit chilly, I suppose."

I gave him a pointed look and he shrugged, grinning as a gust of wind blew up his shoulder length raven hair. I smiled.

"I like your hair long."

He used to wear it long, but then a few summers ago he'd gotten a buzz. And though I was not into the whole hippy thing, it suited him so well to have his locks long.

"I know." He returned my smile.

For a while we walked in silence. I tripped a total of three times over nothing but sand and Jacob did the best he could to hold in his laughter. The fourth time my feet tangled together and I grabbed on to him for support he broke down. He threw his head back and laughed.

"My god… it gets worse with age, doesn't it?" he asked slinging an arm around me and practically carrying me to a boulder that had so often functioned as our bench.

I harrumphed, but couldn't hide my smile.

"So… how is your bookstore doing?" he asked once I was seated, my legs swinging back and forth, not reaching the ground as if I were a little child.

"It's okay… not actually making a profit yet, but it's all according to plan so far."

"I'm proud of you, Bells." He nudged my shoulder with his and I nudged back with a smile.

"Though you know," he continued, "instead of selling books to those stuck up Satellites or whatever they are called down there, you could sell them to little town's folk. Educate Forks."

"Seattleites." I chuckled and he mouthed a cheeky _whatever._ "And you'd actually buy books at my shop?"

"Uhm…sure."

"You'd buy Keats or Blake from me," I deadpanned, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"Why not?" He shrugged.

"You'd _read_ Keats or Blake?"

"As if! I have no time for dead poets."

I let out a sound laugh and lay my head on his strong shoulder.

"I'd starve here!"

"I'd never let you starve," he replied putting his arm around me and pressing me closer to him.

"I missed you," I sighed, watching the waves crashing ashore. It was the truth. It was odd how I didn't realise how much, till I was back. I missed the effortless banter. His macho-coated sweetness and friendship.

"I missed you, too, Bella. You don't know half how much," he replied.

"Enough to let me ride the bike?"

"Over my dead body."

I chuckled, then shivered.

"I know you have lava in your veins, but _I'm _cold," I stated, hopping off the boulder without falling.

"I'm impressed." Jacob grinned at my achievement, and I stuck out my tongue before grabbing his hand and swinging our arms between us as we let the wind blow us back to his home.

* * *

The parking lot of Sue's home was stacked with cars and I could hear the loud cheers that were coming from inside. The football game had clearly started. Charlie actually hopped from one foot to the other as he waited for me to sort out the groceries.

"Just go." I laughed finally locating the bottle of wine and trying to fit it in the paper bag without squishing the rest of the products.

"No, it's fine." Charlie shook his head. Another cheer erupted and I actually thought that it would take out the windows. Distress coloured Charlie's face and he finally broke down. "

Okay, I may go see."

"Go see." I shook my head with a chuckle and gathered the paper bag in my arms closing the trunk of my car, following him inside the house. A myriad of aromas lured me in and I realised I could not wait to taste Sue's cookery. Sue Clearwater whirled through the hallway, wiping her hand on a bright red apron.

"Seth, I'm not telling you again! Move your car out of the way!"

"In a minute!" Seth's muffled shout returned. "Come on… Come _on_!"

"In a minute you won't have a car _to _move!" Sue threatened and I had to smile at the tiny woman's authority. She flung her long thick braid over her shoulder and stopped dead in her tracks when she finally noticed my presence. Her face lit up as she grabbed my shoulders.

"Bella, there you are! I already scolded Charlie for leaving you behind!" She kissed my cheek and ran her hand through my hair in a motherly fashion. I didn't mind. I smiled.

"I told him to go inside before he would pace a hole in the garden."

"Men and football…" Sue shook her head. "Useless! Let me take that so you can take off your coat." I passed her the paper bag and shrugged out of my parka, hanging on the straining coat rack.

"Those are for you." I nodded towards the bag.

"Oh! That's so nice of you, Bella!" She exclaimed peeping inside it.

"Well…it's from Dad and me. He picked the wine."

"How long did it take him?"

"About twenty minutes, before he groaned and grabbed a random bottle off the shelf."

Sue let out a melodious laugh as her dark eyes filled with warmth.

"Sounds like Charlie. Come. The girls are in here." I followed her into the kitchen where I found Leah and a girl whose face I faintly remembered from the reservation, yet could not match it with a name.

"Anna, I don't think you two have met," Sue said," This is Charlie's daughter, Bella. Anna is Seth's girlfriend."

With a faint blush Anna proffered her hand and I took it with a smile. She had the bronze Quileute skin and the raven hair. Hers was cut in a playful bob with one bright red lock, but it was her eyes, an icy blue, that instilled in her a mystic beauty.

"She's gorgeous, isn't she?" Seth suddenly quipped from the doorway and Anna's face darkened a couple of shades. Little, gangly, happy-go-lucky Seth, who by now had to be at least six feet five, grinned from ear to ear and winked at his girlfriend. I chuckled.

"How are you doing, Seth?" I asked.

"I'm…" He glanced at his mother. "going to move my car!" And he was off. I shook my head. He obviously hadn't changed all that much.

I shifted my gaze to Leah, quietly regarding us from the stove where she stirred something. She looked even more beautiful than I remembered. I had always envied her exotic exquisiteness, but on top of that she glowed. She glowed as if her skin had been cast in to copper. There was none of the sadness that had lingered for years after she had lost the love of her life to another woman. They were sparkling, dark and warm. And then I noticed what it was that made her radiate. The curve hugging dress she wore stretched over one curve that had not been there the last time I had see her, a protruding belly.

"It's been forever, Bella!" she exclaimed letting go of the ladle and striding up to me to wrap me in her arms. I couldn't even take a breath to reply. I froze in her embrace. Just for a moment, till I attuned to the new found affection. I never had real problems with Leah, but she had not exactly been my best friend. Not even a friend to begin with, more like an acquaintance that never really paid attention to me. And after having heard her sad story from Jacob, I couldn't really blame her for being sour. Now even more so than ever. We were so similar in our heartache, bereft and mangled. The difference was that Leah was something I was not. Brave. Stronger than I could ever be. It took incredible strength to stand at the altar, not as the bride of the man you love, but as the bridesmaid of the woman that took him away and that's exactly what she had done. She had swallowed her pride and accepted that her boyfriend of five years was in love with her cousin even though the pain had been all consuming.

Nevertheless, time seemingly healed her wounds and before me stood a whole new person. A woman who bore a pressing resemblance to a familiar shadow familiar shadow from many moons ago.

"Yeah, at least two years, no?" I asked as she released me and took a step back, nodding her head with a smile. I tried to remember whether I had ever seen her smile. I would have certainly remembered if I had, for she was luminous when she did.

"I think…congratulations are in order?" I glanced down at her bump and back up. She smiled resting one hand on her stomach.

"Little boy, due in March. But don't tell that to my husband. He's been plugging his ears since the last ultrasound." She winked. Leah winked. I was still getting used to this new cosmic equilibrium.

Then a loud rumble, which could only be ascribed to Jacob's Harley Sprint, reverberated in the evening sky. Not much later, Jacob, stepped through the door.

"Howdy, folks!" He exclaimed as he flashed a blinding smile.

"If it isn't our Southern brother." Leah rolled her eyes.

"We're celebrating _Thanksgiving_, Leah. Not exactly Native history friendly. We should toss Bella out, too! Not to forget your Oyrish husband!" Jacob winked.

"Don't be a chancer, Jake." An unfamiliar man suddenly appeared in the doorway, his voice wrapped up in a distinct Irish accent. He had reddish hair and light humour filled eyes, his were cheeks rosy and his demeanour kind. He looked like someone Jacob could easily snap in two, but from the look he gave him, I took it Jacob liked him.

"Just sayin', Alex, just sayin'…" Jacob shrugged, as Alex slung his arms around Leah and kissed her ear. I couldn't help but feel a tiny sting of jealousy. If she was happy, why couldn't I be?

"Move it boys!" Sue ordered pushing her way past Seth and Jacob, who folded his massive body in one of the kitchen chairs, to open the oven. The smell of the Sue's dish nearly knocked us off our feet. And as the party moved into the dining room I couldn't take my eyes off Leah, content and adored in the arms of her husband.

* * *

Sleep would not take me and I rolled on my back staring at the ceiling. I let out a sigh, the hundredth that day it seemed and watched the shadows dance on my walls as the wind violently swept over the tree branches outside. I felt a surge of air graze my arm when another gust hit the poorly isolated window and snuck it back under the covers. I sighed. Then I turned on the bed light and picked up my worn copy of _Catch-22_. I pulled out the old candy wrapper that functioned as a bookmark and started reading. And the more I read the more fed up I got. With Leah, with Daniel, with myself, with Edward. With the whole idiotic situation that deprived me of sleep. It had to stop. Right now. I tossed the novel aside and grabbed my phone from the nightstand finding Edward's name and pressing the call button. It rang once, twice, three times. It wasn't until the sixth ring that Edward answered.

"Hello?" He growled. It was all the time I needed to gather enough air for the tirade that was about to come.

"You are right," I said in the phone, "I don't know you and I assume things. But you can't blame me for logical conclusions! No one wants me for a reason, Edward! Except for you, who is _crazy_ for wanting me. And _I _can't deal with a crazy man! Not right now. Not ever. You are driving me insane! You are bloody Yossarian to my bloody Luciana!"* I took a deep breath, my heart raging in my chest as the other side was silent. Entirely silent.

"Bella?" he eventually asked in a bewildered hoarse voice that would indicate he had been sleeping prior to my call.

"Yes! Bella!"

"Are you drunk?" he asked. I furrowed my brow, frustration boiling in my veins.

"No, I'm not!" I shot back, mentally adding that I could just as well be crazy instead.

"It's 3.43 am," he sighed and I heard the dull thump that somehow told me he let his head fall back in the pillows. I imagined him running a hand over his face, his fingers lingering on the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah," I replied meekly, both my bravery and my vexation shrivelling into a pathetic little ball in a matter of seconds. Another silence set in as I chewed on my lip.

"So…" Edward stretched the 'o', his voice raw and low raking over my skin. "Attribute this to the hour if you like, but what the fuck?"

"I'm sorry," was my automatic response and my finger already twitched to end the call.

"Don't you dare hang up on me!" He threatened, "You can't drop a bomb on me at four in the morning and then run away. That's not how it works…" His sigh was followed by a soft click, perhaps the bed light, and the rustling of sheets.

"_Enlighten _me, Bella," he requested softly. "Enough with the cryptic rants, enough with the running. I'm tired. Aren't _you_ tired? Can we for once speak in English? Just…make me understand."

The problem was that I didn't understand it myself. He seemed to invoke every instinct of self-preservation and annihilate them at the very same time. And I was left hot and cold, surrounded by both darkness and light, nauseous from too much, and yet craving more. There were _Error_, _Abort, _and _Escape _signs flashing everywhere and I could not locate the _Ctrl+Alt+Del _buttons for the life of me. I couldn't reboot. I was just…stuck; stuck and afraid that if I pulled the plug, I wasn't going to be able to start up again, but I _was_ tired. Tired of being angry, of being sad, of being afraid. I didn't want to be afraid of Edward. So far he had given me no reason to other than simply existing and I could imagine that he was frustrated with me as well. If anything, his understanding for _not_ understanding me was epic. Any other guy strange enough to show interest up to this point had left the building after reading the "elevator out of order" sign. Dating had not been my forte. Yet, Edward didn't seem to mind to climb the steps…even if they led to a merely mediocre view.

I frowned. Perhaps that was the problem. He didn't realise this. He expected something grand and was going to be disappointment. He wouldn't be the first… But how could I let him know? I liked him. A lot. Too much for my own good, or his… I liked him enough to not make him go through all the trouble for nothing. And so I told him. I told him about my sophomore year and the Introduction to Literary Study course. It had been my favourite not just because of the vast array of books we covered, but because of the lecturer, Daniel Cooper. He was young, beautiful, and very popular amongst the female student body of the University of Washington. Yet, of all his admirers he chose me, the shy girl in the back of the class room, who eagerly listened, took notes, but didn't actually like to be on the front and centre during discussions. But Daniel coaxed me out of my shell, encouraged me to write. The first time he told me I was beautiful, I didn't know what to do with myself. The second time I was drunk and kissed him. He had kissed me back. For weeks he would make my heart flutter with text messages and little notes, he would smile at me in class, and sneak me off to some secluded corner to whisper sweet things in my ear and kiss me senseless. I was overwhelmed, afraid of what would happen if anyone found out. On the other hand I didn't care because he made me feel like a goddess. He was the first guy I loved, for whom I had lied to my closest friends, for whom I had disregarded myself. It was all new to me, all a pink haze.

I took in a quivering breath curling my legs under the blanket. The other end of the line was silent and I wondered whether Edward was still there.

"What happened?" he asked softly, indicating his presence and I swallowed back the urge to cry.

"I loved him, and he said he loved _me_, but it turned out he also loved his _wife_ back in New York. And when I wanted to confront him about it I found out that he loved my roommate, too. Like, _one _blow was not enough. He loved her_ so _much that he couldn't find a more discrete place to undress her than our dorm." Bitter tears blurred my vision and left searing traces on my cheeks. I tasted the salty bitterness of anger on my tongue and my hand shook as I lifted it to wipe my eyes.

"I gave him everything I had!" My voice broke in a sob. "Everything! And he was so fantastic that it would have been a crime to not share it with the rest of the world. Spread that love! Was that what you wanted to hear, Edward? Well there you have it. I was fucked over by a guy. I'm not the first, the last, or the only one, but you know what? It hurts! I'm _sorry_ that I cannot just…jump back into the dating pool like everyone expects me to. I'm not a yoyo! When I hit bottom I don't miraculously bounce back!"

I was yelling at him now, but it was not from anger as much as I wished it to be. It was from pain. A deep raw pain that felt as fresh as the day it was inflicted. When the stream of words faded it was replaced by a tidal wave of fresh tears. I lay on my side, my knees pressed to my chest and the phone laying in my open hand on the pillow and cried. I cried till I couldn't cry anymore. I was empty, hollow. The wind howling outside reverberated in my soul.

With a last shaky breath I pushed myself on my arms, my body heavy with the lead of sadness and sat up. I had all but forgotten about my phone and the conversation pending. Edward had yet to say anything. Even if he had I most likely wouldn't have heard him. I picked up the phone and put it to my ear, trying to swallow the feeling of cotton balls in my mouth but not entirely able to do so.

"Edward?" My vocal chords did not entirely manage to utter his name without shakiness and I swallowed again.

"Bella," he replied. No question mark. Bella, full stop; his voice soft yet unwavering.

"I'm sor-" I started. He deserved an apology. It was after all not him I was yelling at. He deserved one, but he didn't take it.

"Don't," he pleaded.

I bit my lip, waiting for his reaction, going through at least a couple hundred of them in my mind. His silence fuelling increasingly more ridiculous thoughts.

"Are you going to say something?" I asked eventually, unable to contain my jitteriness.

He sighed, a heavy loaded sigh, before stunning me with his monosyllabic response. "No"

No. I had yelled at him for half an hour, then cried for another half hour and he wasn't going to say anything. I stared into space blankly unsure of what to make of it. Relief? Hurt?

"Oh…"

"There is nothing I _can _say. Am I grateful that you told me? Yes. Can I thank you for something that hurts you so much to share? No. Am I sorry that this happened to you? More than words can express... So I'm not going to say anything, because I can't. Not right now."

Another silence set in. It seemed there was nothing left to say and yet neither of us felt ready to hang up. I was dead tired, but knew there was no way I would fall asleep now. I couldn't sleep when it felt like the room was filled with big clouds of my pain and the walls appeared to press it tighter and tighter around me.

"How do you feel about catching the sunrise?" Edward asked frowning as I struggled to understand the meaning of his words.

"What?" I croaked rubbing my eyes to rid the feeling of sand in them.

"I want to get out of the house." He vocalised my thoughts without realising it, but I foresaw a little difficulty.

"You're in Seattle."

"We can meet halfway." He resolved the issue in the blink of an eye. We could, but I wasn't sure I wanted to face him now. I'd been burnt and I didn't want him to touch me for fear that it would hurt more. I couldn't possibly foresee my reaction if I were to see him face to face. But I was going to suffocate in this room if I didn't leave soon.

"Do you know where Discovery Bay is?" I asked.

"No, but I'll find you."

I wondered if he could.

* * *

The sky had already transformed from a flat pitch-black into a canvas of lapis lazuli and thulian pink as I drove the last miles to the small bay adjoining the Strait of Juan de Fuca on the Olympic Peninsula, almost to the mile half the road to Seattle. My hands were tightly curled around the wheel, the Chevy purring in satisfaction despite the hour. I wasn't worried I was going to fall asleep. I was wide awake when I saw a lone car parked at the small parking lot directly next to the road. My headlights bathed it in a sea of light as I pulled in and it was undoubtedly a Volvo. Edward's Volvo. He had found me. And just when I thought I could cry no longer, new tears welled up. I let out a bitter laugh wiping them with the back of my hand and took in a couple of deep quivering breath.

My hands remained clasped around the wheel after I had killed the engine and the lights. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to calm down. I had not driven 90 miles to bawl my eyes out. I had done plenty of that at home. No, I was meeting him halfway. He had travelled his half and I needed to take the last steps to finish travelling mine.

"Stop it!" I ordered myself and sniffled. Then I filled my lungs and let the long breath ride out again. When I opened my eyes I saw Edward leaning against the hood of his car. My heart jumped in my chest. It was as if he had appeared out of thin air, yet he looked like he had been sitting there all along, regarding me from a distance.

"Breathe…" I muttered and got out of the car.

The frosty air hit me in the face, forcing a gulp of oxygen down my throat as I dug my hands in the pockets of my jacket. Edward locked eyes with me, silently willing me to come to him and my body complied, the soles of my boots crunching on the pebbles of the parking lot as I slowly but surely closed the distance between us. His hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of his parka, his shoulders squared against the wind. I stopped a few feet from him, surprised that my heart did not beat wildly in my chest, yet the tight feeling remained. Edward stuck out his hand, palm facing upward and I stared at it for a moment before placing my own hand in his grip. He pulled gently till I was standing in between his legs and his other hand found my waist in the confines of my open coat. My head found his chest and I didn't fight his touch when his fingers untangled the messy locks of my hair, ran over my blotchy cheek, and my jaw. I let out a sigh and closed my eyes, his slow steady heartbeat soothing me.

"Thank you," he said softly against the top of my head.

"For what?" I asked.

"For letting me hold you."

All my determination to keep the valves of my tear ducts closed crumpled.

"I'm sorry for being horrible to you," I croaked as new tears followed the paths left by old ones.

"What did I tell you, silly girl?" he asked in my hair. "Don't apologise; not for hurting because of that …_guy._" The last word was spoken with cold bitterness as his grip around me tensed, his hand curling in a fist on my back and then he exhaled, his stance relaxing somewhat as his fingers flared out over the small of my back again. My own hands dared to seek warmth inside his parka. I laid them against his sides and blushed faintly, realising I had never touched him like this before.

"Is this okay?" I asked quietly.

"More than okay," Edward replied. "Much more pleasant than champagne down one's trousers."

I chuckled through my tears, looking up at him.

"This has been a mess from day one," I sighed. It was epic how much of a mess this was, how much of a mess I was.

"There are worse things to have poured over you." Edward shrugged.

"Like?"

He pursed his lips, squinting his eyes lightly as he thought. "Blood."

"Right." I smirked, my fingers clawing at the fabric of his sweater for a tighter grip. He flinched with a yelp and I jumped back only to be pulled back in his arms before I could realise what happened and then it downed on me, my watery grin growing.

"Are you ticklish?" I asked with a snivel.

"No comment…" Edward grunted.

"You are, aren't you…"

"You are missing the sunrise. It's beautiful." His attempt to change the subject was entirely unsuccessful.

"You are ticklish." I didn't know why this was such a revelation. Perhaps all this crying and yelling and crying some more had made me insane, but I started laughing. Hard. I laughed till my sides hurt, occasionally muffling my display in Edward's chest, letting it echo in to the frosty air in little condensed puffs. And when the wind changed direction, so did my mood. My sniggers turned into sobs as if I had absorbed the last of the dark of the night. I cried, dampening Edward's sweater, my hot tears soon turning icy on my face. I was spinning. Spinning out of control. Happy. Angry. Sad. Hurt. Grateful. Afraid. Amused. Confused… Spinning faster and faster.

Edward's fingers kept combing through my hair, occasionally swiping over my cheeks as he softly rocked me from side to side. He never spoke a word and he didn't need to. I was grateful for his touch, his smile, which expressed more than any amount of words could. For the way he made my heart beat faster when I had forgotten that it beat at al. For simply standing here with me, allowing me to be sad and angry and happy and everything in between without fussing.

Once my turmoil died down and I was left exhausted and limp against him, his lips moved to my ear and ever so softly his breath washed over it, carrying a glimpse of hope.

"You're going to be okay."

And I smiled tiredly, as a final sob slithered through me like the last bounce of the ball on the roulette table and all was quiet; around me, within me. It was light. Peaceful.

No matter the stakes, I _was_ going to be okay.

**A/N: * Yossarian and Luciana are characters from Joseph Heller's novel _Catch-22_. Luciana is convinced that Yossarian is crazy for wanting to marry her because she is not a virgin. She in turn cannot marry a crazy man (even though _he_ is willing). It's circular logic that makes as little sense as Bella's rant.**


	8. Double Bind revised version

**AN: READ FIRST, PLEASE!!!!**

**Firstly, happy holidays everyone! I hope your winter celebrations are lovely. Secondly, my evil twin made me rewrite a good portion of this chapter and thus I have deleted the previous! I have slightly altered the plot from Heidi's visit on, so I think it's benefitial for overall consistency of the story that you read this. I'm very sorry for this stupid stunt. I was too rash with uploading the first draft and when I'm not fully satisfied it nags at me till I can't stand it anymore and then have to do something which ends up in rewriting half the chapter. *takes breath* I'll try to better myself in 2010 (my New Years's resolution) and I must thank you for your never ending patience with me in 2009. **

**Holiday hugs,**

**Alverdine**

**PS. Am working on chapter 9 as much as holiday craziness allows and I promise that one won't have a million versions. *ducks head in shame*  
**

**Disclaimer: **All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended. Similarly, what is mine belongs to me.

_Chapter 8: Double Bind (revised version)  
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_-E-_

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It was part of it. Hours upon hours of answering the same boring questions over and over again. At times –such as now - I just felt like recording some answers and playing the tape every time a new person entered, while I caught up on some well needed sleep. Perhaps I could use one of those life-sized cardboard cut-outs that seemed to be everywhere to perfect the illusion. I saw the mouth of the girl moving, but didn't register what it was she was saying.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?" I asked sitting up straighter and rubbing my eyes in an attempt to resuscitate my alertness.

The girl flushed, letting out a giggle.

"Uhm…yeah. In the movie your character falls in love with an older woman. Can you see yourself falling for an older woman in real life?"

"I don't know. Why not? In fact, I have."

"You have?" She leant in, eyes wide with excitement had she discovered something exhilarating and spicy, when in fact I had answered this same question 7 times today alone.

But like a broken record I repeated myself an eighth time.

"Oh yeah, in fourth grade I had found the love of my life in Amanda Steel, a heavenly sixth grader. Unfortunately it was unrequited."

"Oh no!" The journalist laughed.

"Yeah, broke my heart."

"I bet she's sorry now."

"And so she should be."

She giggled again and checked her list of questions. "Uhm…"

"Last question." Lauren stuck her head in the room and the journalist nodded going through her papers to find the last question she wanted to ask.

I leant back against the backrest of the sofa as she did so, my knee bouncing lightly. After two days of promotion in LA I felt so tired that numbness was accompanied by a strange jitteriness. I couldn't sit still. I could feel my pulse in the right side of my head and with each beat it seemed to wake a monster of a headache more and more.

"So, what are your plans for the upcoming holidays?" The girl asked when she finally settled on her last question and my knee stopped its bounce.

"I will probably just spend it with my family in Seattle," I answered with a smirk.

As unexciting as the answer would feel to her, it was practically marked on my calendar. I craved a good ol' Cullen Christmas. Nothing was worse than spending Christmas alone, in a strange city. I had done it last year and I was not going to repeat it.

"Alright, well thank you for your time." She smiled gathering her papers.

"Thank you_, _for yours_._" I stood up when she did, almost startling her with the gesture. She giggled as we shook hands and nearly tripped on her way out of the room. The moment she was out of sighed I slouched on the couch and covered my face with my arm.

"_The Hollywood Reporter _is the last one."

I lifted my head when I heard Lauren.

"Are you okay?" She then asked.

"Yeah, just a headache." I ran a hand through my hair with a sigh.

"Take a fifteen minute break. We've been well on schedule today. I'll tell Maggie to bring you some aspirin."

"Thanks," I muttered and closed my eyes as she closed the door. As my days were packed with responsibilities concerning the studio's Christmas release, and my nights were not packed with sleep I was simply tired. The monotony didn't help. I actually almost looked forward the trip to New York the following day. Just a change of scenery. And even further from Bella. She had been plaguing me since last Thursday. I wanted to be understanding, I really did, but I couldn't help but be taken aback by it. I had no idea how damaged she was and I had no idea how to fix it.

The door clicked softly, briefly letting in Lauren's voice arguing something over the phone, and a couple of people laughing before it closed and silence shrouded me again.

"Here you go," Maggie said. I opened my eyes and took from her a bottle of water and two white pills.

"Thanks." I popped them in my mouth and washed them away with a couple of quick gulps.

"Are you okay?" She asked eyeing me with concerned grey eyes.

Was this another question I had to answer ten times?

I sighed laying down again. "Just a headache."

"_Really?_"

I turned my head to find hers at my level, as she was now sitting on the floor in front of the couch, eyeing me sceptically, her wild red curls atop of her head like a fire.

"Really."

"How about I get you something to eat? You haven't had a proper meal all day," she offered.

"I'm not hungry," I sighed.

"But you still have to eat."

"Maggie, I just want to be alone for…" I glanced at my watch. "Five minutes. I promise I'll eat after this is over. In fact let's go out. I've seen about enough of this hotel room."

"Oh! Madeo? Sensational pasta!" She clapped her hands together in excitement.

"Madeo, it is."

"I'll ask the rest and make reservations!"

"You do that."

Then she was gone, but I was not alone as much as I tried. I just could not rid of Bella in my head. I could still feel her pressed against me, feeling her tears drenching my sweater, my skin, my soul. Elated as I was at first that Bella finally told me what was eating her, the more I thought about it the more I wished she hadn't. I supposed I was a good liar. I could act beyond my age, beyond my understanding, but it changed nothing in that I had no idea what to do. It had not been easy to just stand there and hold her, to pretend for that short moment of time that I did not want to bash in that guy's brain for taking away her smiles; to not wonder how she would have been if that part of her life had not happened. Happier, lighter, less afraid of me and my intentions. What _were_ my intentions? How was I even going to approach this? Approach her?

"Edward?"

I opened my eyes focussing on Lauren in the doorway and sat up.

"Are you ready? They want to set up." She held a phone to her ear seemingly waiting for someone on the other end.

"Yeah." I ran my hands through my hair.

"When was the last time you had a proper night's sleep?" She eyed me with the scrutiny of a mother.

"Eh…" I tried to remember.

"Because you look like shit," she concluded, "It's a Christmas rom-com, not a holocaust drama, Edward."

"Gee, you're too kind." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm serious! That's a heartthrob," she said pointing at one of the cardboard cut outs. "That…" Her finger moved to point to me and she pursed her lips as she tried to find a name for me, which no doubt was going to be flattering. "Amy Winehouse."

"Ouch. Well maybe he wants to do the next interview then," I motioned at my one-dimensional clone.

"Very funny."

"I try."

"George! Where the fuck have you been? Did you have to _invent_ the fucking copy-maker before you could copy _one_ sheet of paper? I don't have all fucking day!" She motioned to the other room, before departing.

I rubbed my face. One more to go and then I was going to have a big plate of pasta.

"Hi! I'm Steven." Energy was practically pouring out of his spray tanned pores.

I lifted my face and shook his extended hand.

"Hey."

"How are you doing?" He asked.

"I'm good, thanks. And yourself?"

"Good, good. Still alive, though just barely." He sat down across from me. "Interviewed Kate before you. _Bad_ mood. Perhaps it's you know..." He leant in closer. "_Menopause._"

His laugh echoed through the room as he clasped my shoulder. I didn't laugh. Instead, I glanced at his hand and he promptly removed it, clearing his throat. It was not that I could not appreciate a joke, but this fried yahoo was already getting on my nerves, and I hoped he got the hint.

"Are you ready, Sam?" He asked.

"Yeah. All set." A male voice reached us from somewhere behind the sofa.

I waited till he was done with the introduction and turned to me, his bleached smile spreading from ear to ear.

"So, Jack is dating an older woman in_ May to December_! Is it something Edward would do in real life?"

* * *

It was still dark as the black Bentley sped through Los Angeles's deserted streets. I gazed out the window as the city lights flashed by accompanied by an accolade of soft sax and piano on the background. I stifled another yawn and rubbed my eyes, yet could not rid the feeling of sand in them. It was shortly past 5 and I was on my way to LAX to go to New York. Naturally, pre-flight nights were never good ones, and I was jealous of Maggie, who was lightly snoring, sunk in the dark leather of the back seat.

"You should sleep, kid." The driver compelled me to leave my hypnotic stare outside and to pucker my brow. It seemed that the more Felix insisted on calling me a kid, the more I was obliged to act like one.

"And you should watch the road," I mumbled crossing my arms.

Felix laughed a low hearty laugh, and I was this close to sticking out my tongue.

"You're a bit crabbier than usual," he remarked glancing in the rear view mirror.

I met his dark eyes and scowled.

"Whatever," I grumbled after a long pause and rubbed my face. It was too early for intelligent retorts.

Why did I ask him to accompany me on this tour again? His mission was always a clear one: getting me from point a to point b unscathed and preferably on time. Yet, he always fabricated an extra task for himself, which mainly consisted of getting on my nerves as much as possible… in an overbearing, big brother sort of way.

"Kid?" Felix's voice pulled me out of my head.

"Yes?"

"You look like shit."

So everyone kept saying.

"Thank you, Felix."

"Just sayin'…"

The upside of flying at ungodly hours was that the airport was practically deserted. Even photographers were not this crazy to camp out in front of the airport at 5.30 in the morning. And Starbucks operated 24/7, which meant that I could sit in peace and sip the mother of all cups of coffee while putting myself on "stand-by", using just enough brain capacity to lift the cup to my lips.

Maggie was painting her nails in a ridiculous fuchsia colour that clashed with her hair and Felix was immersed in his crossword puzzle. During the last ten minutes his frown had grown exponentially and I was afraid he would burn a hole in the paper with his stare.

"What is it?" I asked pulling one of the ear buds out so I could hear him.

"Ancient Greek city on the Bosporus. Nine letters. Starts with a 'b'. _Bullshit_."

"That's eight."

Felix glared at me.

"Just sayin'…" I mimicked his line from earlier with a smirk and Maggie giggled whilst blowing on her nails.

"I prefer you cranky and silent," Felix grumbled.

"It's Byzantium with an 'y'." Felix' eyes shot to me, then back to his project as he checked my answer.

"Did you make that up?" He squinted his eyes at me. "Because I swear if you ruin my puzzle…I'm going to drop kick you over the balcony of your hotel room."

"I did not make it up!" I laughed putting my hands up in surrender. I was surrounded by crazy people and that at 6 in the morning.

"Then how do you know?" He demanded pointing the sharp end of his pencil at me.

Before I could reply our flight was called to the gate and the reality that I was once again going to board a death trap set in as my stomach turned somersaults. I didn't know why I was afraid of flying. Perhaps it was the feeling of having no control, though a phobia did imply great quantities of irrationality, but I clearly remembered being five years old and bawling my eyes out all the way across the Atlantic. Even when the pilots allowed me to take a look around the cockpit I was not pacified. If anything, seeing all those different switches and meters upset me even more. Dad had actually given me a mild sedative on the way back, so I didn't remember much from that time, but I stayed grounded for many years after and it were my grandparents who visited us. Emmett had never quite forgiven me that I had taken 'his wings', as he called it.

These days fear of flying just wasn't an option and I had learnt how to channel it. The whole stomach-churning, can't-breathe, heart-pounding, claustrophobic, walls-are-closing-in sensation had been diluted over the years, to a fraction of what it once had been. However, this did not mean that I by any means enjoyed it.

I sat down in my seat – never the one by the window- and fastened the seat belt, before letting out a deep sigh. Maggie plopped next to me, carrying a pile of magazines and I had to think to that flight from New York to Seattle, where it had been Bella sitting next to the window, leafing through magazines. It had been the only time where I had dreaded reaching the destination, because I was certain I wouldn't see her again. Her touch had been a buoy of warmth and I missed it. I missed her. I sighed again.

"It's okay, Edward," Maggie said nudging me with her elbow. "Here let me distract you. In this you look like a pale alien." She shoved a magazine under my nose.

"Perhaps I should find myself another job…" I deliberated. "After all, you can't emphasise enough how ugly I am. I'm starting to develop an inferiority complex."

"We're just worried about you. Lately you have been particularly sullen."

"I'm not sullen." I let out a pained laugh. "I'm just… tired."

"But you don't sleep either."

"Well that has nothing to do with being sullen," I protested.

"So it _was_ Byzantium!" Felix exclaimed on the other side of the aisle.

"Does that mean I won't have to fear for my life tonight?" I asked him and curled my hand around the armrest taking in a sharp breath when the engines started buzzing louder in preparation for take off.

Oh how I _hated_ flying.

"You'll be fine." Maggie reached out and patted my hand as the acceleration of the plane pressed me in my seat.

I watched her hand on mine, felt her skin on mine, but it was just not the same. My heart was pounding out of horror, not because her touch shot through me like an electric current.

"Let's do a quiz," Maggie said. "How about this one: 'Are you a gutsy chick?'. Let's find out, shall we?"

I raised my eyebrows at her as she took out a pencil.

"Question one."

To much dismay, I was not a gutsy chick. _Cosmopolitan's_ expertise had rendered me a shrinking violet. Thank God, Maggie fell asleep before we could examine whether I had girlfriend potential. The remaining time I spent listening to music, drinking coffee and trying not to think about the fact that I was in an aluminium tube 3500 feet above the ground. Still the five something hours felt like eternity, but finally we did land in New York and my legs felt a bit shaky as I stepped on to the floor of JFK airport. Felix left immediately to arrange the car and Maggie bounced off to make some calls. I, on other hand, trudged to the baggage carousel and stifled a yawn. It was then that all of a sudden two hands clasped over my eyes ridding me of my vision.

"What the-" I started, instinctively grabbing on to one of my attacker's wrists, but she merely laughed, her breath washing over my ear.

"Ah, ah, ah. Guess who first."

I smirked when her voice matched a picture in my head.

"Could be any number of crazy chicks," I teased, pulling her hand away and spinning her around.

"Where did you come from, Dee?" I asked.

Heidi Fisher's violet eyes sparkled, luscious blonde curls spilling over her shoulders as her lips curled into a smile at the moniker.

"Miami. Horrible flight. Just horrible. But then I get off and I see Edward Cullen! Couldn't believe my eyes. Thought you were avoiding me." She winked. "Where did you come from?"

"LA."

"Poor thing." She laughed. "Not feeling faint, I hope."

"Not anymore." I smirked.

It was surreal to see her loom up before me. It had been some four months since I had last seen her, since we had decided to put a stop to whatever was or wasn't us. She hadn't changed, still breathtakingly beautiful, spontaneous. Just Heidi.

"How have you been?" I asked.

"Oh you know... New campaign, new man, new ferret." She shrugged with a smile. Her life was still a rollercoaster.

"Ferret? Is that code for 'pregnant'?" I asked with a frown.

She threw her head back and laughed. "No. It just means that I have a ferret. His name is Billy. How have _you_ been? Heard a lot _about _you, yet nothing _from _you."

"I'm fine. Same ol'. No ferrets." I shrugged.

"You look a bit…rumpled," Heidi said carefully.

"Is that a polite way of saying that I look like shit? Don't bother placating. These days it's everything I hear."

"Bags are here," Maggie announced. "Oh Heidi. Hi."

I watched Maggie's merriment being replaced by obstinate dislike. For some reason she had never been very keen on Heidi. Perhaps it was an height issue, since Maggie was an inch away from legally being considered a midget and Heidi had never ending legs.

"Hi," Heidi greeted in return.

"I'll just get our stuff," Maggie said before walking away, but I could feel her eyes burning a hole in my back as her internal screams told me to not start 'this' _again_.

"She still doesn't like me." Heidi chuckled. "Thought she would be over her silly crush by now."

I squinted my eyes at her. It was always dangerous to cross the territory of two hissing cats.

"Maggie doesn't have a crush on me," I then replied calmly.

"Sure she does. Why else would she hate me?" Heidi shrugged

"Because you're a very hateful person?" I offered and she smiled.

"So how long are you staying?"

"Just two days."

"Oh! We must have a drink before you leave. Who knows how long it will be till I see you again!"

A drink with Heidi. It sounded alluring and yet I wasn't sure if that was what my twelve step Heidi- detox plan needed. Temptation. For she _was_ tempting, dressed in the tight fitting jeans and the white plunge neck sweater. And there was her smile and her care free manner, but I had decided that I needed something else. Something more.

"You're awfully quiet there. Are you considering turning me down?" She teased.

"No." I chuckled averting my eyes in case it was written in them that she saw right through me. "Come see me at the hotel tomorrow night. You know how to find me by now."

"I do." She smirked biting her lip. "Well… see you then. Your PA is going to start fuming soon. I better go." Before she did, however, she pressed her lips to my cheek and I felt them curl into a smile.

"You're awful," I muttered turning to look at a scowling Maggie. With a casual wave and a smile Heidi was off, capturing every stare in the terminal and I turned around to go see my tiny, fierce assistant.

That night I was so exhausted that I slept like the dead. The next morning Maggie had to literally drag me out of bed as I had slept through all of my wake up calls. Though I had spent six hours in a coma, I didn't feel that much more rested and after a whole day of interviews and planned mobbings all I wanted to do was sink in a hot bath and then sleep for a week. I had no time to sleep, however. Not even for a quick shower if Felix didn't get on with it.

"Can you hurry up?" I requested.

"This is Manhattan, kid," Felix retorted hitting the horn when a yellow cab cut him off.

So it was. And I was running late. Eventually we did make it to the Palace hotel and I sifted my way through the photographers, fleeing inside the sanctuary of the lobby. I strode to the elevators in a straight line already fishing out my key card. I was elated to be alone. Yet, the elevator just had to stop on the 12th floor, the doors sliding open and revealing a girl. I gave her a brief smile and studied my shoes waiting for the elevator to continue its much too slow ascend.

"Hi," the girl said.

"Hi," I replied studying her more closely. She was young. I'd estimate twelve years old, yet was dressed way over her age in a very grown up looking blazer and skirt ensemble.

"You're Edward, right?" she said fixing her matching hair band. 14…15…

"Yes."

"I'm Jane." 16…

"It's nice to meet you."

"Are you staying here, Edward?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"Me, too." 17…18… "Do you have a girlfriend?"

I raised my eyebrows.

19…20…

"Uhm…no."

"Are you looking?"

21.

Come again?

"Aren't you a bit young?" I asked carefully.

What exactly was one supposed to say to that? I had had some strange offers in the past, but this was…just… and why wasn't the elevator moving? We were still on the 21st floor. The doors slowly slid open only to reveal an empty hallway.

"I'm almost fourteen!" Jane contradicted.

"Exactly my point…" I retorted.

"Age is relative, you know," she said as the elevator doors slid shut again.

"Not _that_ relative." I laughed.

22…

She scowled at me, her angelic features morphing into menace and I composed my face clearing my throat, inwardly commanding this steel cage to hurry up.

23…24...25…26…

This had to be the highest building in the world.

"My floor," I almost exclaimed when the elevator stopped on the 31st floor after eternity and then some and the doors mercifully slid open. "Bye, Jane."

I stepped out and all but ran down the hall and to my room. I fumbled with the plastic card and groaned when time after time the red light lit up with a disapproving high-pitched peep. Whoever invented these pieces of crap with the idea that they were handier than keys was seriously… Green light. The door opened with a click and I stepped inside and put the card in the slot so I'd be able to turn on the lights. Madison Avenue stretched out before me like a stream of lava glistening in the night. Yet, I had no time to enjoy it. I glanced at my watch and rushed to take a shower.

I was still fumbling with the buttons on my cuffs when a soft knock on the door drew my attention.

"Coming!" I yelled and strode barefoot to the hallway opening the door to find a blonde on the other side. Not the blonde I was expecting, however.

"Jane." I sighed. "Hi."

"Did you take a shower?" she asked.

"Yes, I did."

"You're not wearing socks," she observed looking at my feet.

"That's because I took a shower. How did you know what room I was staying in?" I furrowed my brow.

Jane shrugged rolling her eyes as if I asked her something inane. "Can I come in?"

"Actually, I'm expecting company," I said, but apparently Jane got what she wanted as she brushed past me. I considered leaving the door open for _my_ protection, but closed it anyway.

"Does your Mom know where you are?" I wondered following her every movement.

"My Mom is in Italy," she said looking around. "Nice view."

"It is…So what about your Dad?"

Aro? He's at a party." She shrugged sitting down in one of the chairs.

"So you're all alone…" I concluded. Or better said I could not just ship her off to a parental figure and she was obviously a pain to get rid of.

"Can I have an autograph?"

I squinted my eyes at her. "But then you have to go, okay?"

"Sure." A radiant smile crossed her face and for a moment she looked her age, but something told me this was all a bit too easy.

I dug a marker out of the inside pocket of my blazer. "What do you want me to sign?"

"Hmm…" She looked around. "That."

I followed her gaze and hitched an eyebrow when it set on a crystal vase.

"Yeah…that's hotel property."

"So?" She grinned at me.

I had never in my life felt so powerless. She was nothing more than a child, for fuck's sake! _Show some back bone!_ I scolded myself and scowled at the vase on the table next to the couch. Then strode up to it and signed my name over the translucent surface, before handing it to her.

"To Jane," Jane amended and I groaned transcribing her words on the crystal, as well.

"There. Now, you have to go back to…" _the dark place you came from,_ "your room." I put my hand on her shoulder and pushed her towards the door.

"You didn't sign the date," she protested holding up the vase as I opened the door.

On the other end stood Heidi, her hand midair and balled in a fist, ready to knock. She looked at me, then at Jane and raised her eyebrows in question.

_Don't ask, _I mouthed.

Her eyes shimmered with amusement as she stepped aside and I quite literally pushed Jane in the hallway.

"Off you go." I waved my hand towards the elevator.

The malicious scowl was once more present on her face but this time I was the one who stared her down.

"See you later, Edward."

God, I hoped not. "Yeah, bye!" I waved, then got a hold of Heidi's arm and pulled her inside the room, throwing the door shut and fighting the urge to barricade it.

"Sorry, but I _have_ to ask." Heidi grinned at me. "What are you doing with Morgan's daughter?"

"You know her?" I raised an eyebrow following her into the living room, where she kicked off her high heels and sat down on the couch placing her purse and a shopping bag next to it.

"Aro Morgan? Head of Volturi Productions?"

"You mean the guy who pays my wages. Nice…" I ran my hands through my hair with a sigh. "I think I need a drink."

"What a coincidence!" Heidi smiled brightly picking up her paper shopping bag and handing it over. "Merry Christmas!"

"It's November." I smirked.

"November, December…" She waved it away with her hand as I took out a crystal bottle of cognac out of the bag and gaped at her.

"Your favourite…still, I hope." Heidi winked.

"It is, but you can't give me a $2000 bottle of cognac for Christmas…in November."

"It's for your birthday, too, then," she added.

"Yeah…that's not till June."

"November, June…" She teased. "Come on… You know you want it. Besides, to soothe your tortured soul, I did an ad campaign for them and they sent me a box as a present. I didn't pay a dime."

I relented with a sigh and her face lit up with a brilliant smile as I got up to get us some glasses.

"Cheers." She laughed as we clinked our glasses together.

She sat on the couch with her long legs tucked under her, feeling right at home. It had always been…comfortable with Heidi, just hanging out.

"Cheers." I took a sip and hummed when an intricate mix of vanilla, spices, pepper and delicately fragrant flowers melted on my tongue. "Thank you. This is golden. I have nothing to give you, however."

"Yes, you do. You have the power to enrich my lacklustre existence." Her eyes gleamed wickedly. "Tell me about your little tête-à-tête with Jane Morgan."

I groaned, but could do nothing but indulge her. It wasn't long before her body shook with giggles as she slumped against the armrest of the sofa.

"You laugh. Her father will have me assassinated for being rude to his evil child." I sipped from my drink and she laughed harder.

"Girls are really flocking around you, aren't they?" She hiccupped.

"Oh story of my life…" I sighed with a smirk, lazily swirling the golden liquid in the glass, watching the play of light through the crystal.

Heidi sniggered again and wiped the tears from her eyes, careful not to mess up her make up.

"Oh goodness…I really have missed you, Edward."

Her gaze met mine and for the briefest of moments her violet blues turned me inside out. I averted my eyes and embedded them in the rug under my feet, taking another sip of my entirely too excessive pre-Christmas/ pre-birthday present. This was going somewhere I was both unwilling and yearning to get. Simplicity. Effortless satisfaction. A free ride. My eyes shifted to my knee, now covered by her warm hand, and my heart hammered in my chest. I could smell her perfume, intoxicating and sweet. I could feel her breath against my face as her fingers playfully ran up my thigh. Another rollercoaster ride. Over before you could properly muster air to scream. My jaw set and I caught her hand on its sweet destructive path.

"Don't." The chagrin in my voice surprised even me. Heidi pulled her hand away from under mine had she burnt it and she shot to the other side of the couch like a bullet.

I jumped up from the couch pacing to the windows and back. Had she not said she had someone? I furrowed my brow, still too flustered to think clearly.

"You said... you had a new ferret! I mean man! Both! What the hell, Heidi?!"

I wasn't sure why I was yelling, but my heart was hammering so hard in my chest that I was afraid I would bust an artery. Heidi winced and I noticed the black traces of smeared mascara on her cheeks. She was crying. I had made her cry. I sighed. I did that a lot lately.

"I'm sorry. I just…" I ran a hand through my hair sitting down next to her.

She shook her head turning her face away from mine, to prevent me from seeing her all too evident tears.

"Last night… we had a fight." She sniffled. "_Again._ It's all we ever do. About my job, about my travels, about the length of my skirt. I suppose it's my own fault. I should know better than go outside the circle."

"So, you had a fight. People fight. You'll make up," I offered.

She shook her head with a bitter laugh. "No. After last night I'm pretty sure we won't make up." Then a new flood of tears welled in her eyes and spilled on her cheeks.

"Come here," I said reaching out for her and she scooted closer, moulding in my embrace.

"_We_ never fought." She sighed wistfully.

"There was nothing to fight about…" I said stroking her hair.

"You don't miss it?" She asked.

"Miss what?"

"Us? How easy it was?" She shrugged then shook her head with a sad smile. "Maybe people like you and I are just not meant to find someone outside this circle."

I didn't want to believe that. I was desperate to step out of this circle, to stop taking shortcuts, gluing my life together out of five second sugar rushes and empty intervals in between.

"You're better than this," I said and silently dared to add that I was better than that, too. I wanted to be.

"Thank you," Heidi sniffled.

"Do you want me to go kick his ass?" I asked to lighten the mood.

Her sniffle got caught in a shaky laugh. "That would go over well, I imagine."

"Hey, I _work out._" I scowled at her.

"Then why do you automatically assume that _your _ass will be kicked?" She grinned and I had to chuckle, as well.

"Touché."

She became quiet again twisting her hands in her lap. "I know I'm asking a lot right now, _especially_ after I tried to get in your pants… but do you think that… maybe… we could be friends?" she asked softly, not looking me in the eye.

I sighed, before stating the obvious. "We already _are_ friends, Dee."

"I'm sorry I wanted to fuck you," she then said and I winced at her words, very happy my mother was not within earshot.

I cleared my throat and said, "It's water under the bridge." Even if it was dead of winter and the water was frozen. It would thaw eventually. What was still stubbornly _on_ the bridge, however, was her statement that it was hopeless to get out of the circle. I bit my lip.

"Did you mean what you said?" I asked her then and she looked up at me.

"About being sorry that I wanted to fuck you?" She asked in a seemingly serious tone and I was hanging somewhere between humour and horror.

"No. About people like you and me being unable to function in relationships outside… "_the circle"_." I made quotation marks in the air.

Heidi glanced up at me, then squinted her eyes studying my face. I wanted to hide from her scrutiny, preferably behind a nice bunch of sofa cushions, as my stomach made a summersault. I felt like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Are you seeing someone?" she asked carefully her eyes never leaving my face and I felt a faint blush warming my skin.

"Oh my God, you are!" She shrieked. "Okay…now I _really_ feel horrible for wanting to fu-"

"I'm not really seeing her," I said quickly, "yet." _Maybe ever. _

Heidi pressed her lips together cocking her head to the side.

"But you want to," she pressed.

"But I want to," I admitted. The worlds rolled off my lips and hung in the room like a heavy fog. A sense of panic washed over me for a fraction of a second before dissolving into a feeling of warmth. _I wanted to. _

"But?"

"But…" I sighed. "It's complicated. And I mean _really_ complicated, three-dimensional-blindfold-chess-on-a-unicycle-while-juggling complicated."

She furrowed her brow. "That sounds…"

"Complicated?" I offered.

"I was going for insane… but sure, complicated. Does this _complication_ have a name?"

Thinking of Bella as a complication felt wrong, unfair at the very least. It was not her fault that she barely made it out of a train wreck of a relationship, nor was it her fault that I was squeamish about her scars.

"Bella."

"That's a pretty name. Is it a pretty girl?"

"It's a beautiful girl."

"But?"

"But it's –"

"Complicated. So you said. Are you going to explain?"

I let out another sigh.

"She's been…apprehensive of started anything and I didn't know why. Now I know her reason and it freaks me out, because I don't know if I am good enough for her. She needs… someone, who is perfect at the very least to offset the damage inflicted on her. I'm not perfect…"

"Nobody is perfect, Edward. At least you don't snore."

I cast her an frustrated look, but she didn't so much as blink.

"Look…" she sighed. "Starting something with _their_ kind is dangerous. And as you see in my case bound to be a disaster. I fell head over Jimmy Choos in love with a guy who has cows and does not appreciate Chanel. It's so much simpler to stay in the circle. You should really consider the ramifications. For both of you. You know how ruthless the media can be. They will write things about you and they will write things about her. And if you think _you _can handle it, think about _her_, too. Is her skin as thick as yours?"

It was not. It was sensitive to the touch, let alone the punches the media could throw. I glowered at the carpet. Her apprehension to start something with me had been right, even if was for other reasons. I _was_ bad for her and here I had been trying to convince her what an average chap I was. In the process I had even convinced myself. It was incredible how many things I had overlooked in my blind rampage to get close to her. I pressed the bridge of my nose with thumb and forefinger realising that I was stuck in a double bind. I had already taken it too far. I had pursued her, I had driven her in a corner and demanded her to open to me. If I turned on her now, even if it was for her own benefit, I could just as well smack her in the face. I cursed under my breath.

"But she's not Jason, and you're not me. And there are those miraculous couples that manage to make it work," Heidi consoled putting a hand on my arm, but I was wired beyond remedy now.

"Do you want to get drunk?" She asked in a failed attempt to cheer me up or perhaps really wanting to ease our misery with the bottle.

"No," I replied resolutely.

"I'm sorry that you are upset," she said softly.

I tore my gaze away from the carpet before it would burst into flames, or melt, or run away screaming, and turned to face her.

"It's not _you_ I'm upset with," I assured, "It's me."

"I know." She sighed. "And I'm sorry for that. On the upside she must be very special to get you so bothered."

I let out a humourless laugh. On the _upside. _Now there was irony giving me the finger, the cruel bitch that she was.

My phone started vibrating on the coffee table. It buzzed in a circle on the glass surface, the blue light shining brightly like a halo and the caller ID made me swallow. _Bella. _

"Aren't you going to pick up?" Heidi asked.

I didn't react. I simply stared at the device on the table, her voice a press of a button away, and I did nothing. Then it stopped and the room was so silent a high pitched ring nestled in my ears.

"I think it's time for me to leave you alone." She got off the couch and put on her shoes, well aware that there was nothing she could do to lift my mood.

I nodded numbly, eyes still on the phone, now just a lifeless piece of plastic. I got up from the sofa, still staring, till I finally _had_ look away in order to let Heidi out.

"Edward." She called my name forcefully as if I was far away.

I blinked and met her eyes.

"I know what I just told you minutes ago and I meant every word, but…I'm also a girl." Her lips curled in a small heartening smile, "Call her back."

Once Heidi was gone, I leant my forehead against the wall, though I felt much more for actually taking a nice swing at myself. I was all kinds of screwed up. I wanted her. I wanted to be good to her and I had found that I couldn't be no matter how I turned it. I was a bastard, a selfish one, if I called her back, and I was a bastard if I ignored her call. I was already hurting her, even if it was unbeknownst to her. Double fucking bind.

After what seemed like eternity I walked back to the living room and towered over my phone, hands balled into fists at my sides and I felt nauseous as a part of me willed me to pick up the phone. If I was driving a car without breaks, I could at the very least try to steer it. I drew in a deep breath and took the phone in my hand, running my thumb over the screen to retrieve Bella's number. It rung only once before she picked up and I felt unprepared.

"Hey." Her sweet voice filled my ear.

I opened my mouth to reply but no sound came.

"Edward?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah. Hi. Sorry, I missed your call. I was..."_ A liar?_ "busy." My voice sounded distant even to me as my heart beat so fast it almost hummed in my chest.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you," Bella said and I hit my forehead with the heel of my hand before my fingers threaded in my hair.

"You didn't. Really. How are you?" I filled my lungs with air and folded my body in the chair letting my eyes graze over the nightly city skyline. It worked somewhat soothing.

"I'm good. Better."

I let out a long breath. "That's good."

"What about you?"

"I'm good. Tired." _I fucked up. I'm going to hurt you no matter how I turn it. I'm sorry._

"Then don't let me keep you. I just wanted to tell you that those books you asked me to find arrived. So… maybe when you get back we could get together for a cup of coffee or something… Or you can drop by… I'd like that." I closed my eyes listening to her voice. "Don't feel like you have to… Thursday was well you know… you were there. If you changed your mind, I can have Dave drop them off…I… did you fall asleep?"

I smiled opening my eyes again. "No."

"Then, please, say something? Anything… because I'm running out of oxygen."

"I didn't change my mind."

She didn't know and there was no way to let her down gently even if she seemed to offer me a way out and if I was honest I didn't know how I could possibly stay away from her.

"My sister is having a birthday party next week, Friday. Come." The words left my mouth like an automated message before I was done thinking them, it was as if some hidden part of me was taking over.

She was silent and I imagined she nibbled on her lips as her mind spun like a hamster in a wheel.

"But I don't know anyone there…" she finally replied softly.

"You know me," I offered, "And my sister won't mind."

In fact she'd be thrilled, an overwhelming tsunami of enthusiasm, but I didn't add that part, because I actually wanted her to come.

"Okay." She let the word ride out on her breath.

"Okay." I couldn't make myself smile, even through the happiness her answer made me feel. It felt wrong to rejoice when I was quite possibly robbing her of her happiness.

"Great. Now tell me something."

"Tell you what?" She asked in confusion.

"Anything. For example what did you do tonight?"

I wanted her to keep talking, to numb the sickness I felt, to soothe me like she had on the plane, though I fully well knew that I did not deserve it.

"You really want to know?"

"I do."

"I googled you," she blurted so fast that I had trouble discerning her words.

I raised my eyebrows. "You googled me."

"Yes. I wanted to know you better… but I haven't quite gotten through the 19.000.000 results, yet."

"Oh wow."

"No shit," she deadpanned.

I smiled sadly. Even if she did get through those 19.000.000 results she wouldn't know what I know. Or perhaps she did… No. She would run from me if she did; run fast and run far.

"So ask me," I said, "I have a much better bullshit filter than Google. And I provide answers quicker, too."

"But you're a bit of a predisposed source."

Again I smiled. It seemed she had a string attached to the corners of my mouth. Her wit was something that I had gotten glimpses of in the short time I knew her and I hoped it would surface more often, together with her smiles.

"I can see how you'd pick Perez over me," I retorted. She chuckled, and the care-free delightful sound almost made me forget the misery of moments ago. _Almost. _

"I don't know how to ask, without sounding… I just don't know how to separate the Edward that you have to pay ten bucks for to see from the Edward I'm—uhm the real you." She admitted carefully.

"You can ask me _anything,_ Bella."

"Anything?"

"Yes," I breathed.

"What are we?"

My heart fell thirty-one bloody floors and hit the basement with a metallic clang. I did not see that one coming and swallowed taking the cowardly way out. "What do you want us to be?"

"I'm not good at this…I don't know how to…" She replied after a short silence. "I'm not used to _be_ with someone, but I –" She drew in a deep breath. "I like you and…"

I smiled at her words, the abject feeling of doom on the horizon momentarily forgotten as my chest swelled with pride for my brave Bella. Perhaps, I was wrong. Perhaps she was not the broken China doll, I thought her to be.

"I'm scared," she admitted. I was, too. Shitless.

"Bella, I am going to do everything in my power to not hurt you." Even if failure was inevitable I was going to try. I owed her that. I owed her so much.

"It's not just that…" She all but whispered. "I don't know how to be…I mean you are … you."

"Then you be _you,_" I replied. "I don't want someone else."

"Do I fit in your world, Edward?"

When I thought my heart couldn't fall deeper, it fell through the basement's floor in the Palace and bored itself right into Earth's mantle. No, she didn't fit in my world.

"You are perfect, just the way you are," I said, twisting my answer so it was not a lie, and yet not the truth either.

Her silence made me bite my nail. Did she see through it?

"I want you to meet someone," Bella then said, "Do you have an internet connection?"

I furrowed my brow turning so I could reach for the MacBook on the coffee table and opened it.

"I do."

"Do you perhaps have a messenger of sorts? So that I can turn on the webcam?"

"Yes." _Oh please don't let it be her mother. _

We established a connection pretty quickly and I looked at the abstract painting of moving pixels till the image morphed into a solid picture like a Monet. A picture of … a cat in Bella's lap.

"Edward, meet Winston," she spoke in my ear and I could do nothing to stop the grin that spread over my face as I watched the fleshy red cat.

Of course seeing her, dressed in a sweatshirt, her hair damp and falling over her shoulders, and on her face a gentle smile added much to the effect.

"Hello, Winston," I said. As if he had heard me he demonstratively turned around and obstructed the view with his generous fluffy behind.

"Oh wow…rejection." I laughed.

Bella moved him out of the way with a chuckle.

"He's so full of himself," she said, "Uhm…you said you were tired. You _look_ tired." Did she blush or was the gritty quality of the webcam playing tricks on me? "You should get some sleep." She finished the sentence with a yawn and I chuckled.

"I see someone else needs to get some, as well."

"It's only eight here. Only grandmas go to bed at eight."

"So what are you going to do? Assuming you are done googling me?" There it was again. She really did blush.

"Well you shouldn't assume so much," she quipped and I let out a laugh.

"I'll keep that in mind…"

"Sleep well, Edward."

"Sweet dreams, Bella… whenever you get around to them."

With a simple 'bye' she ended the call and I already missed her voice. Then, with a small wave she turned off the webcam as well, ridding me of a visual. I sighed closing the laptop and tapped the phone against my jaw before betting all my money and hope on a horse called "Wrong Assumptions".

I really hoped I was wrong.


	9. Inferno

**A/N: Seriously! And I mean *seriously*! FanFic [dot] net, what did I ever do to you? It hasn't allowed me to upload documents for over two days now! Frustrating, for I have let you wait long enough! I hope you took notice of the changes I made in the previous chapter and I want to thank you all for your wonderful, supportive, and critical comments. You have been the cause of many smiles. :) **

**Also, a biiiiig thank you to partner in crime, SunKing, for i-dotting and t-crossing this oversized baby_. _I bow to your knitting skills, and since this is my chapter, the final word is mine! Ha! Check out her lovely fics and her novel **_The Kingdom _**at www [dot] rioghanskingdom [dot] com. Is there anything you _can't_ do, Jen? **

**And now I have stalled you enough. So my dear readers, enjoy!**

**Love,**

**Alverdine**

**Disclaimer: **Everything Belongs to Stephenie Meyer, except for my imagination!

_Chapter 9: Inferno_

_-B-_

* * *

Why was it, I wondered, that no matter when you started preparing for a date you ended up running late? I had left the bookshop early, thinking that I would need the five hours to make myself presentable with an hour or so to spare just in case of some fundamental damage to my person or my outfit (that I had picked the day before) before Edward could come get me to go to his sister's birthday party. Now, I had exactly ten minutes left and I still had to get dressed and blow-dry my hair. I was running around like a maniac, wishing that Angela was here to instruct me instead of up in the sky halfway to Paris.

Nine minutes! No! Evil clock! I stopped in the middle of the living room in my underwear and ran my hands through the wet, tangled mess that was my hair. He could be here at any minute, and for the time being I hoped he was not one of those overly punctual people, but I did not bet my money on it. Unfortunately, as the elevator was already out of order, I could not tamper with it to buy time by making him take the stairs.

"Stop it!" I ordered myself aloud. I had eight minutes and four seconds and I stood here plotting his delay instead of putting on my clothes. There was something seriously wrong with my priorities.

I needed to deconstruct the problem into smaller, solvable ones. Start at the bottom and work my way up. Pantyhose! I ran into my bedroom and threw open a drawer digging through a pile of panties and bras till I found a semi opaque black specimen. Perfect! This would give me the confidence to wear the dress that just barely seemed to cover my ass. I gathered the leg of the tights in my hands and stuck my foot in it. My victory was short lived as I wiggled a toe that stuck through a considerable hole in the material. There was no God. Or God _was_ a woman and a great deal envious of me going out with Edward tonight. In that case, was a bit of feminine solidarity too much to ask? I sighed. It did not matter. I was going to wear boots, anyway.

The silk panel dress turned into an anaconda upon me pulling it over my head and I struggled to get my arms in the right holes while neither tearing the delicate material nor messing up the eyeliner that had nearly cost me an eye during the painful process of application.

"God…damn it!" I growled as the garment finally gave way and I took a deep bewildered breath, as if I had spent too much time under water. I reached back and started fumbling with the tiny buttons. However, no matter how I contorted my body, I could not get it past the middle of my back. This. was. just. so… _so_…

"Typical!" I exclaimed my frustration for no one else to hear but Winston, who sat watching from his spot on the windowsill with a kind of pity for my predicament. As if he wanted to say: "If I had thumbs I would button you up". I sighed. Useless fur ball.

If the situation was not bad enough, the shrill buzz of the doorbell sent my head into overdrive, my heart into cardiac arrest, and my cat behind the curtain. My eyes shot to the clock that mockingly displayed 8.31 pm. I wasn't done! I wasn't buttoned! I wasn't… feeling all that well, to be honest.

Since that night that I had called him in New York City something had shifted. Not a day went by that we didn't have contact in one way or another. A two minute phone call just before he had to go on a radio show; an e-mail I wrote him when it was quiet in the shop on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, telling him insignificant details about my childhood, my friends, and my cat; a picture of a Chicago sunset seen from his hotel room he had snapped with his phone, his reflection in that window so beautiful it took my breath away. Which each one of them, I had grown more at ease with his voice in my ear; his presence…somewhere in a hotel room, watching a sunset and thinking of _me._ But the knowledge that he was there, on the other side of my door sucked the air right of this room.

The bell buzzed a second time and I flinched, making my feet move towards the hallway, and feeling the blood pulsing in my head with every beat of my heart. My blood pressure could probably blow a fuse. With quivering fingers I fumbled the chain off the door and twisted the lock. I inhaled deeply and simultaneously pulled open the door, ready as I would ever be to face my … neighbour?

"There you are, devushka*!" Mrs. Kowalski exclaimed, gripping my arms with a wide smile. She was a tiny old lady with hands that could be mistaken for mechanic vices as they dug in my flesh. She lived alone across the hall and was the epitome of neighbourly. Over the years she had taken care of my cat when I was out of town, brought me a pot of borscht on a weekly basis, and never lost the hope that I would marry her grandson.

"Mrs. Kowalski," I stammered, not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved that it wasn't Edward. "What can I do for you?"

"My Demetri phoned this afternoon. He is coming to town next week. He has a very successful laundrette business, you know! Busy, busy, busy! But he comes next week. You will eat with us, yes? I will make borscht and piroshky**. Crazy about piroshky, my Demetri!" With every word her fingers dug deeper in my arms and I wondered how on earth a lady of her size and age could possess such incredible strength.

"Uhm…" I tried to get the creative juices flowing and fabricate an excuse to get me out of this engagement party. I was not very successful, and when my eyes settled on a moving figure in the staircase, I drew a total blank. He was not wearing a coat and his blazer was undone. His bronze hair was in endearing disarray. exactly as I remembered, and a blush played on his cheeks from climbing twelve flights of stairs. When he met my eyes, his lips curled into a smile and my legs turned to mush.

"I…uhm…can I get back to you about that?" I heard myself say, while I shot Edward a desperate glance. He was now leaning against the wall on top of the staircase and I tried to beckon him closer with my eyes. The sooner Mrs. Kowalski saw that I had company, the sooner she would let go of me. Or at least I hoped so.

"Hello." Edward's soft and simple greeting, accompanied by a smile made me forget the stress of the previous five hours and the fact that I was being held hostage by an overenthusiastic old lady.

"Oh!" Mrs. Kowalski's grip faltered as she whipped around to assess the visitor. She squinted her eyes at him, then reached for the glasses hanging on a chain around her neck and put them on her nose, inspecting him closer.

"Did you find it alright?" I asked to break the awkwardness, and Mrs. Kowalski's eyes, now reminding me of those of the wolf in Red riding hood because of the strength of her glasses, set on me.

"You know this man, devushka?" she asked.

"Yes. Yes, I do." I blushed as I spoke.

She glanced at Edward. Then at me, and then at Edward again, and her face fell as realisation hit that I would rather eat piroshky with Edward.

"Bozhe moi***," she muttered with a shake of her head and let out a sigh.

Her grief was quickly exchanged by a newfound élan as she turned to me. "Look at your hair, devushka!" she cried, "You are not ready. Idti!**** I will keep him busy." She shooed me inside my own apartment with a wrinkly hand, before grabbing Edward's arm. "How about some borscht?"

"Uhm. Actually!" I interjected, before she could put him through a meat grinder for her piroshky and free the way for Demetri, "I have a very large spider in the shower!" I got a hold of Edward's other arm and for a moment I thought this was going to be a pulling contest, which would surely be won by Mrs. Kowalski and her monster-truck muscle, and poor Edward was going to be dismembered.

"Spider?" Mrs. Kowalski echoed. The Slavic accent that usually softly coated her words made the bug sound like a mortal enemy, and before I knew it she had removed a slipper from her foot and raised it like a weapon. "Show me where!"

I was starting to suspect Mrs. Kowalski had been an integral part of the KGB before retiring. Edward took a sharp breath that bordered a sob and my eyes fled to his face only to conclude that he was about to die from pent up laughter.

"No!" I argued. "It's…_really_ big and…hairy… and I'm pretty sure it's poisonous. Edward will take a look, won't you?" I looked up at him, my hands still wrapped around his forearm.

"Well, if it's _hairy_…" He trailed off his eyes shining with amusement and I tugged at his arm. "Right. We will manage, Mrs…" His body inclined towards her as he waited for her to finish the sentence, a charming half-smile playing on his lips. I was swooning. Mrs. Kowalski, however, swatted the slipper to his chest.

"You have to hit real hard!" She emphasised with a curt nod of her head. Edward grasped the shoe in his hand and nodded earnestly.

Then the lady turned to me and said, "I will bring you some piroshky, devushka."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kowalksi."

She turned around, muttering something in her mother tongue, and disappeared down the hallway. I did not count my blessings. Instead I pulled Edward inside the safety of my apartment and closed the door. I leant against it, fighting my own laughter and simultaneously trying to find something to say regarding the just experienced spectacle. He beat me to it.

"You attract the oddest people," he said with a laugh.

I bit my lip, wondering if he knew that he meant himself with it. If I was a magnet for peculiarity, he was the biggest one yet.

"Spider, huh?" He waved the red and black plaid slipper in front of me when I didn't respond.

"I had to say _something_. She has been trying to hook me up with her grandson for close to two years now! She was going to do something _bad_ to you. You saw her! She's strong and she is not afraid of spiders!"

"I'm lucky to have you to protect me then…"

He had to stop tugging at the corners of his mouth or I was going to start hyperventilating from delight.

"I'm— I—" I pointed at my hair when my vocal chords jammed entirely. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"For my hair!" I cried out. "Just…never mind. Let's go. We're late as it is."

"Don't be silly. I'm not taking you out like this."

My eyes grew till I thought they would pop out of their sockets and roll across the floor, and I had trouble breathing.

"I mean, it's freezing outside!" He quickly added, "You'll catch a cold. We're not in a hurry."

"Oh…" It sounded like a peep. Five hours of fussing had affected my ability to think rationally. Of course he was right. I'd get sick if I went out with wet hair. There was nothing wrong with my hair…except that it looked like a bunch of tangled Medusa snakes. Yeah…there was that.

"Please, come in," I urged ungluing myself from the doorframe and leading the way to the living room.

It was nothing special; a couch, a coffee table, a television, some bookcases, and some scattered knick-knacks. Edward took his time looking around, and I took mine looking at him- painfully beautiful in my living room- skimming over the titles of the DVD collection. I gulped. Oh God, the DVD collection. I threw myself across the room and ripped the incriminating titles out of their place before finally looking at him. Edward stood frozen in his spot, mouth agape and eyebrows raised in question.

"This is just…not interesting," I stuttered, hiding the movies behind my back. In fact, they were, but he didn't need to know about my research on him. There was enough awkward in this room.

"Okay…" he stretched.

My face flushed in belated embarrassment and I rushed past him, opening my bedroom door and tossing the films on my bed. "Would you like something to drink?" I asked quickly, not giving the chance to question me or inspect the rest of the apartment.

"Uhm…sure. A glass of water would be nice."

"Water. Right." I let out a nervous giggle. "Coming right up."

With shaky hands I filled a glass with water and managed to spill almost half on the floor before I reached him.

He thanked me, took a small sip, and sat down on the couch, where he watched me carefully as if I might pull it from under him at any moment.

"Okay." I took in a deep breath fanning myself with a hand. "You just…sit here and please don't find anything embarrassing that I haven't managed to hide." _Jesus Christ, Bella!_

"I won't move an inch." Edward chuckled leaning back.

"Good. I'm not crazy. Usually. Just…" I inhaled before muttering. "Oh, what am I talking about? Total nutcase."

Time to leave the room. Exit stage, left! _Go! _I turned around gathering my hair in my hands and started to walk away, but something stopped me. He stopped me.

"Your dress…" Edward gently reminded and I whipped around. My dress? Oh! My bloody unbuttonable button dress! My face flushed.

"There is something severely wrong with that system," I croaked. "Or with the length of my arms, but I'd like to think that it's a bad design and I'm not malformed and—" While I rambled, I watched him get up from the sofa and approach me, till he was so close that I forgot where my rant was going.

"May I?" He smiled down at me.

"Uh…" I could only manage to nod as I slowly turned around, my heart painfully announcing his touch and the air never quite reaching my lungs as I desperately tried to draw it in my system. And when he touched me, cold fingers on searing skin, my body broke out into a chorus of hallelujah that shot through me like lightning. I shivered.

"I'm sorry my hands are cold." He misread my body language to great degree, as his fingers somehow managed to put the tiny silk buttons through their designated holes. One by one he climbed over my spine, the whispers of silk and the softness of his touch against my skin.

"There," he all but whispered, fastening the last button at the base of my neck. I stood motionless; every nerve ending focussed on him, like a field of sunflowers, each trying to make itself taller to drink in the last rays of sun. I didn't breathe. He didn't touch.

He cleared his throat and chuckled hoarsely. "It's definitely the system."

"Yeah…" I sucked in a breath, willing my lips to curl upwards. " Thank you."

He nodded and I went to dry my hair, feeling as if I just stepped out of a space shuttle and had trouble accepting gravity.

When I returned, my hair transformed from wet disarray to dry, I found Edward on the couch with my cat. Winston lay draped over his lap as Edward ran his fingers over the fur of his belly. I could not deny that I was slightly jealous of Winston and his current position as he stretched his body further, elongating his belly and closing his eyes, while purring like a little diesel engine.

"I swear I didn't move," Edward vowed when he saw me. " He came to _me._"

"He's such an attention seeker." I grinned, earning a mock horrified glance from Edward.

"She doesn't love you at all, does she?" he asked the red tabby, who let out a complaining meow as if agreeing.

"All you want to say is 'rub my belly and I shall love you forever'." Edward dragged both his hands over the cat's sides and I thought Winston was going to die of pleasure induced heart failure as he contorted his body in yet another shape like a pretzel. During this gratification high he still managed to complainingly concur with how much he was being 'wronged'. I let out a laugh at their "conversation".

"I like your cat." Edward chuckled.

He had his moments.

"Are you ready?" He asked. I didn't miss how his eyes momentarily assessed me, nor the appreciative darkening of the irises. He quickly averted his gaze, however, hiding something wild, beautiful, and frightening behind a façade that was as benign as my own lazy housecat.

"I'm ready."

~Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ~

"Inferno?" I asked when the town car that was Edward's means of transportation that night stopped in front of a red brick building in Belltown. "You're taking me to hell, Edward?"

"Don't worry. Alice only turned 19 and despite her plans of world domination they won't let her further than the fourth circle till she is 21," Edward replied, smirking and put his phone to his ear.

I took in the blazing letters on the façade and the line of people waiting to get in and wondered how extensive Alice's world domination schemes were already as Edward said his 'Mhm's' and 'Okay's'. I felt uneasy as I thought about all those people inside, about his family. What were they going to think of me? What if they didn't like me? Didn't think I was good enough?

"Bella?"

I turned to face him and tried to blink my way out of the daze that had shrouded me. "Yes?"

"Can you put your hair down, please?" He asked.

"What?"

"It's just for now. Till we are inside. I was kind of hoping we could avoid this altogether by going round the back, but there seems to be a problem, so we'll have to do it the slightly more obvious way."

He nodded outside and I followed his eyes to the crowd in front of the entrance.

"Oh." Was all I could manage when his words sunk in. I could come up with a myriad of legitimate reasons for his request, but the most dominant one shouted that he didn't want to be seen with

_me._

"I know it sounds strange," he sighed, "but at this time, it's for the best that we keep this to ourselves."

When he said 'this' he took my hand in his and gave my fingers a light squeeze. It not fully eradicated the self-deprecating Bella inside me but it shut her in the trunk of the car for the time being. I nodded and my free hand went to the pin that held my hair together. It unfurled like a stage curtain after the last encore.

"I'm sorry for being difficult," he said, softly untangling the last knots in my hair with a brush of his fingers.

"No." I shook my head. "It's okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Stay behind me, keep your head down, and don't let go of my hand. You can leave your coat in the car. It's going to be quick, I promise."

I nodded and he rewarded me with a smile before opening the door and he slid out of his seat. I shivered at the cold wind when he helped me out of the car and said something to the driver, before starting to pull me across the street. My heartbeat, as well as my grip on his limb, increased with every step we took.

"Do you always have someone to drive you?" I asked to break the tension.

"Only when I'm going somewhere like this. Faster, more reliable, and no one has to be the designated driver," he replied, quickening his pace till every one of his needed two of mine. I was very glad I wasn't wearing heels. Those could have proven fatal.

We reached the packed sidewalk safely. I felt almost guilty bypassing all those girls in skimpy skirts hopping from one stiletto on the other in the freezing cold, their teeth clattering in tune with the remnants of the music that leaked from inside.

"Oh my God, did you see who that was?" I heard one of girls shriek to her friend, and in a reflex my step faltered as I turned my head to see who had said it. I tripped into Edward's back and he steeled the grip on my hand to keep me vertical. I guiltily bit my lip, face like an overripe tomato, when he glanced back to make sure I was still on my feet and the second girl confirmed what the first had seen.

"Oh my God, Edward!" she yelled.

I was officially a total failure at stealth. Edward acknowledged the girls with a smile and a short wave before moving on and making me bump into him a second time when he stopped at the entrance.

"Gentlemen," he greeted the two bears of men guarding the velvet rope with a nod. "I believe you will find my name on the list."

In the background people whispered and laughed, and the two girls still screamed his name and words of adoration. I wondered how he could possible ignore it so effortlessly, but when he pulled me closer in his side I wondered if he did ignore it, after all.

"Certainly, Mr. Cullen," one of the bouncers said, unhooking the rope. "And the girl?"

"The girl's with me," Edward simply replied leading me inside.

The second bouncer led the way through a dark hallway and a lobby of sorts to the main room. I gripped Edward's hand with my other as well as to not lose him and dared to look around. Projected flames licked the walls in red and orange, others were adorned with rich murals of what I realised were sins, and Edward's remark about the fourth circle of hell suddenly didn't seem so tongue in cheek. The music was loud and the space was slowly filling with people that, for some reason, were all headed for the bar as the laser lights rolled over the room in red and pink. Edward turned around, his lips moving, but the only sound reaching my ears was a loud beat that seemed the quake my intestines.

"What?" I shouted.

He leant in, breath in my ear, and shouted: "Are you okay?"

I nodded. I was lying. I wasn't sure whether I was okay. I didn't even feel comfortable at house parties and now I was in disco hell. Pun intended.

We kept moving and ascended a flight of stairs, finding ourselves on a deck overlooking the rest of the club. The theme remained, affluent murals, plays of light, but it was richer. Heavy velvet curtains, iridescent chandeliers, and a lot of corners and niches with soft looking couches to sit on. On the bar and on the small tables, tea lights were burning in what looked like holders made out of raw salt crystal, shedding a warm light. It looked kind of stunning, and the music was not nearly as loud as downstairs.

"It's beautiful here," I said, raising my voice, but not actually having to scream.

"Well…when you go to hell, you might just as well do it in style." Edward winked.

There was already a substantial crowd of people enjoying their drinks, laughing and talking, not one of whom I knew. I sighed. I was not really a people person. I pushed the Charlie in me into the trunk with self-deprecating Bella and slammed it shut. Tonight I _was_ going to be a people person, I told myself, but was not prepared for what hit me. Literally. A flash of orange silk slammed into me and, if not for my hand still in Edward's, I would have been laid out on the floor.

"This is so exciting!" The attacker squealed.

"Alice." Edward admonished the girl that could only be his sister with almost parental patience.

"You're Bella Swan!" She beamed at me, tiny hands gripping me with disproportional strength. Was she a member of the same gym as Mrs. Kowalski?

"Uhm…yeah?" I pulled my mouth into what – I could only hope – didn't look like a petrified grin. "Happy Birthday?"

"_Alice."_ The second time Edward uttered her name it sounded like a warning.

"Thank you!" She squeezed me harder, entirely ignoring her brother. "We will be great friends! We can go shopping and drink coffee! Do you like coffee? I _love_ coffee! And—"

"Alice!" The third time sounded like a roar that made me flinch.

"Yes! Sheesh!" She waved him off, not in the least intimidated, and I couldn't help but laugh.

They didn't seem much alike. She was tiny, Alice. Even in heels she just barely reached Edward's shoulder. Her hair was either black or dark brown and framed her face in playful spiky wisps. Atop of her head she wore a hair band with flashing red devil horns that fit the venue and – if I took Edward's glare into consideration – her personality to the fullest. Her facial features were delicate and the paleness of her skin made her look somewhat like a doll. The dress she wore was orange. A bright, here-I-am, can-you-say-orange, _orange. _And for some unearthly reason, she looked absolutely stunning in it.

"You have pretty hair," she announced after a short pause shooting me a bright smile.

"Are you _drunk_?" Edward inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Never mind. Why am I even asking?"

"Don't be a grump." She winked at him, then leaning to me said: "He can be such a grump at times."

"I'm not a grump! You're just…" He made a wide hand gesture, searching for words. It was kind of endearing, as Edward seemed to always have a retort to everything in the blink of an eye.

"Impossible?" she suggested.

"Thank you," he grumbled.

"You're welcome." Alice said and a grin spread over her face as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "And thank _you_."

"You're welcome." He smiled down at her returning her hug.

I wasn't sure what I was witnessing, but it felt like something out of a black and white movie, slightly in fast forward, with hysterical piano music and frantic lip and hand movements. All that was missing was someone holding up signs telling what in the name of Godiva was going on.

"Well, well, well! What have we here!" A low voice boomed, successfully overpowering the music and manifesting in the immense shape of a man. Next to Alice he looked like a giant, but his smile was bright like the sun and the dimples in his cheeks nothing short of adorable.

"This is Edward's Bella," Alice introduced me disentangling herself from his grip and caused the man's smile to brighten. My cheeks, however, flushed at that little possessive streak in Alice's announcement. Edward's Bella. It sounded both frightening as appealing at the same time.

"I'm Emmett," the man presented himself. "The handsome Cullen. Too bad for you I am married, so you will have to do with him." He nodded Edward's way, extending a large hand, which I took hesitantly. He gave it a gentle squeeze and winked.

"You warm my heart, Emmett." Edward rolled his eyes.

"You can't help it that I'm handsome. They used to call me 'Handsome Emmett' in school for a reason."

Alice let out a squeal of laughter before clasping her hands over her mouth.

"Name one person who called you 'Handsome Emmett' in school," Edward challenged.

"Pft!" He scratched his head, thinking, before exclaiming: "Grandma Platt!"

Even Edward could not keep a straight face at that and a thrill shot down my spine, like it did every time he laughed, really laughed. "I'm going to get a beer." Emmett then declared. "Want something, too?" He looked at Edward, then at me.

"A beer, thanks." Edward placed his order. Emmett's eyes expectantly descended on me a second time.

"Uhm…a Martini?" I tried tentatively. I was not a seasoned drinker. I had no idea.

"Are you asking or are you telling?" Emmett demanded and I unconsciously stood straighter.

"Emmett!" Edward chided, "We're not on the football field. She said a Martini."

"Fine! A Martini for the lady and a beer for Edward 'The- Not- Quite- So- Handsome' Cullen! Back in a flash!"

"Don't mind Emmett," he told me once his brother had wandered off to the bar. "He doesn't mean it bad. He just has no filter… nor manners."

"But he's very handsome…" I offered, letting him know that I was okay.

"Grandma Platt thinks so." Edward chuckled leading me to a niche that held an empty couch.

"Well…I think so, too." A blonde quite fit to be portrayed on one of the murals approached us. Her flaxen hair fell over her shoulders and back in luscious curls, the black dress she wore wrapping around every curve like a second skin, and showing enough of her first. She was the embodiment of elegance and beauty and she looked like she knew that very well.

"How peculiar, that Grandma Platt's name came up before yours," Edward goaded.

Her eyes narrowed and for a moment she looked every bit as fierce as she was beautiful. Edward however, did not seem too affected.

"Bella, meet Rosalie, my sister in law."

I stuck out my hand to shake hers, but Edward cautioned me: "Careful! She bites."

"You're _so_ funny," Rosalie sneered, placing a cool and carefully manicured hand in mine, before folding her endless legs to sit down on the adjacent sofa.

I couldn't help but feel a bit edgy around her. She did not exactly look very welcoming while she let her eyes wander over me with clear indifference, but Edward made all my concern melt away as he nudged my shoulder with his and I was met with a curious, sweet smile that tugged at the corners of my own mouth. He brushed my still loose hair over my shoulder leaning his face closer to mine and his heavenly scent washed over me.

"You are beautiful," he said close to my ear. "Absolutely stunning. And Rosalie is like a defective space heater… She will warm up to you, it will just take some time."

"Oh, you two love birds!" Emmett plopped down next to his wife, his hands full of drinks. "Get a room!"

I blushed and Edward raised an eyebrow, to which Emmett only shrugged. "I always wanted to say that."

"And Emmett you just _ignore_!" Edward finished loud enough for him to hear. I chuckled and thanked Emmett for my Martini.

"As you are shag-" He started with a wide smile but it faltered slightly when he glanced at Edward and he cleared his throat, almost visibly fighting himself to not giggle. "As I was saying…since you are here with Edward over there, who's trying to dissect my brain with his evil stare, I got you two umbrellas. Though what's up with that? We're in hell! Not Cabo!"

Rosalie elbowed him in the ribs.

"Hey! I'm holding beverages here, woman!" Emmett bellowed.

"I swear, call me woman one more time you…man," she hissed back, only to coax a smile a mile wide on Emmett's face.

I was fascinated.

"Or what?" Emmett goaded.

"Or you're walking home tonight!"

"Are they always like this?" I asked Edward.

"Not all of the time, I mean they have to sleep some time. The thought alone that her parents wanted her to marry me…" He shuddered with a chuckle.

"Marry you?" I echoed.

"Yeah, Jasper, her brother, and I were…" He paused shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "We grew up together, went to the same school, were in the same Christmas plays, etcetera… our families became quite acquainted, and they couldn't emphasise enough how much we are made for each other, both headed for Dartmouth and so on."

I gaped at him. "You were headed for Dartmouth."

"Took a different exit." Edward shrugged taking one of the beers out of Emmett's hands.

"And Rosalie?"

"Rosalie got pregnant senior year." He nodded at his brother.

"Lily. Right. Different exit, too." And a different Cullen. Just like that, I realised I knew so very little of this man and no amount of Google time was going to fill in the gaps. I needed Edward time.

"Do you regret it?" I asked. "Not going, I mean?"

"Sometimes." He cast his eyes down for a moment. "But I suppose we regret everything in life once or twice."

I nodded and wondered about mine. There had been so many already and I was only 23. Then I looked at Emmett and Rosalie, currently in the middle of a heated kiss, bickering forgotten, and wondered about theirs. A child at 18, college dreams gone and who knew how many more, but there they were, lost in each other and I felt ever so slightly envious of their embrace. Of each other and of whatever life threw at them.

"Who needs to get a room now?" Edward said throwing one of my umbrellas at Emmett's head. His brother flicked him the bird and gave Rosalie a final languid kiss, leaving her flushed and giggling against his shoulder.

"I think Grandma Platt would retrieve her statement about your handsomeness if she saw that," Edward admonished taking a swing of his beer referring to Emmett's middle finger.

"It's a legitimate communication tool. Has been since the Roman times." Emmett tipped his beer bottle towards Edward, "_Digitus impudicus_, bro."

I let out a laugh and made the mental note that I already liked Emmett Cullen. _Impudicus_ and loud as he may be, he was real, without pretences or complications. It was like looking in the smooth, crystalline waters of a mountain lake and seeing everything. He and Edward seemed so different, both in their appearance as in their ways. I wouldn't have thought they were brothers, had it not been for our introduction. A more obvious genetic match was the tall blond guy that Alice was tugging towards us. There could be no question he was related to Rosalie. The same facial features, hair, eyes, complexion. Jasper was downright Rosalie's male version and I wondered if perhaps on top of everything else, they also shared a birthday.

He looked uncomfortable as he trudged behind the tiny girl, but perhaps this was only because his expression was offset by Alice's as she beamed. Literally beamed. I wondered how so much 'happy' fit in such a petite package.

"Bella, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend," she announced, shooting a glance towards Edward.

I followed her eyes and saw Edward giving her a tight smile. Everything then fell into place. The friend that was seeing his sister, his uneasiness as he spoke about Rosalie's brother. I was looking in the golden eyes of his best friend and they were restless. Yet he seemed entirely composed as he introduced himself to me.

"I'm Jasper Hale," he said leaning over the table to shake my hand. "Pleasure to meet you." His voice was smooth, soothing almost, and I smiled placing my hand in his.

"Edward." He acknowledged his presence with a curt nod. Cool. Detached. A methodical and void use of etiquette.

Edward watched him in silence for a few seconds before reciprocating in a similar fashion, a wry smile playing on his lips as he looked away.

Two laughing girls stumbled towards our corner screaming a horribly out of tune version of 'Happy Birthday' over the music in the club. Alice jumped from the sofa, and they collided in a mass of dresses and arms and laughter. Cheeks were kissed and hugs exchanged till one of them looked past her and noticed Edward. Her mouth opened, then closed like that of a fish and her face coloured a bright red while her eyes shimmered with her excitement.

"Hi!" She eventually exclaimed, "I'm Alice's friend…we uhm… we study together. I loved you in _Flightless Bird_."

"Hello, Alice's friend," Edward replied with the charismatic half smile that made both her and me keel over. "And I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Oh, ha!" She fidgeted with her hair. "Bridget. My name is Bridget. Are you enjoying Seattle? LA must have much better weather. And then the movie! Ireland. So pretty. Right? I mean, I wanted to go to Greece this summer but I'm going to Ireland now, 'cause it's like _beautiful_." The verbal avalanche rolled off her lips at such a speed that I had trouble comprehending what she said and I met Emmett's gaze.

_Yap, yap, yap_, he mouthed moving his hand in accordance like a puppet. I bit my lip to contain the giggle that was fighting to escape.

"Yeah it is…like, beautiful." I heard Edward saying.

"Hi, Edward!" A second girl peeked around Bridget's shoulder. "Remember me?"

"Molly Sullivan." Edward chuckled, recognition flashing over his face. "Thought you'd be in jail by now. How's life?"

"That thing with the principal's car was a big misunderstanding." She grinned, "And I'm good. Residing in LA these days. Share an apartment with Donna. Remember Donna? Donna! Look who's here come say hi!" She hollered. "She doesn't hear me."

"I remember Donna." Edward chuckled. "Has she secured Clooney's hand in marriage yet?"

"No…No. But it's an ongoing project. We're working on it. If not…would you consider being the replacement? She's very friendly, Donna."

"She beheaded all of my G.I. Joes."

"That's a no, then…" Molly concluded as Alice wrapped her hands around her arm and started pulling her away. "Oh…I'm going? I'm going! Awesome to run in to you again!"

"Stay out of trouble, Molly!" Edward grinned.

Molly laughed rolling her eyes at him before she disappeared out of sight. Bridget was still in her spot and catatonic from the looks of it, but Alice managed to coax her out of the niche, too. As she led her friend away she turned her head and mouthed a sorry to Edward.

"I just don't get it…" Emmett mused holding a beer in both hands. He took a swing from one then from the other.

"Don't get what?" Edward asked with raised eyebrows as he watched how Emmett pulled a face at beer number two and gave it to Rosalie. She shot him a disgusted look and set the bottle on the table.

"What is so sexy about your skinny ass! Bella? Any thoughts on the subject?"

I gaped at him. Did I have any thoughts on the subject of Edward's ass?

"Oh leave her alone," Rosalie interjected, before I was fully done dying of mortification. "Get me a drink instead." She pushed him off the couch.

"Just ignore him," Edward repeated his earlier statement with a shake of his head. "As for the sexy, it remains a secret between me and my skinny ass," he told Emmett.

All this sexy ass talk had me flustered. Ignoring Emmett was not as easy as it sounded since his personality seemed to be as big as he was. I took a sip of my Martini. Then another, and then I just finished the whole glass in an attempt to make me slightly less sensitive to Emmett's increasingly more suggestive remarks. I did not however intend for the drink to rise to my head.

"Uhm… do you know where the bathroom is here?" I asked Edward, hoping I didn't look as drunk as I felt.

"I'll show you," Rosalie replied instead, rising from her seat.

Edward shot her a look to which she rolled her eyes, but no words nor witticisms were exchanged. I wondered whether leaving to a secluded place with this woman was the safe thing to do, but I followed her into a black tiled restroom with marble sinks and elegantly lit mirrors.

Once I had washed my hands and cooled my Martini flushed cheeks, I fumbled with my hair, making an effort to get it back up the way I had it. Loose strands kept slipping from my fingers till I had to let down my arms because they were starting to sting. I sighed. Stupid hair. I tried again, attempting to sneak a peek at the back of my head as Rosalie exited one of the stalls and turned on the faucet.

"Here, let me," she then offered, tossing the paper towel in the bin, and moving to stand behind me.

I let go of my hair and it fell in her waiting hands. She fluffed it up, then combed her fingers through it before gathering it in a pony tail at the back of my head. Her fingers twisted and turned. "Clasp?" She briefly met my eyes in the mirror.

I handed her the hair clasp and she pressed it to my scalp, plucking and pulling at my hair. I had a difficult time believing she was helping me from the feel of it. Perhaps she was trying to pull my hair out instead, but when she removed her hands and I twisted my head I discovered that she had left me with a stunning up-do.

"Thank you." I smiled at her. "I'm such a –"

"Let this be clear," she cut me off looking me right in the eye. "Edward may be an ass, but he is my ass-in-law. He is family and I do _not_ like seeing my family hurt. I hope, for your sake, you're not playing games with him to get a free ride on the fame express."

I blinked and shook my head.

"Good." She took a red lipstick out of her purse and moved her upper body over the counter and brushing it over her lips in two fluid motions before smacking her lips together and perfecting the corners with her pinkie finger. "I like your dress."

"Thanks…" I shifted in my spot. I wasn't sure what to think of this. Whether to be offended because she made me out for a gold digger or give her credit for looking out for Edward's interest.

"I really like him, Rosalie," I thus said, studying the noses of my boots. "If anything I wish he wasn't…" I glanced up at her. "I like him a lot."

"He really likes you, too," she replied eventually, and I could swear there was a smile in her eyes, however slight, before she put her hand on the door. "A lot," she added and pushed it open letting the music burst in had it been pressed to the door listening to our conversation.

I remained rooted to the tile floor and stared at the now closed door, a myriad of thoughts swimming in my head, till it swung open again and two girls walked in laughing and chattering. I made myself blink

and then move, getting the strawberry lip gloss I had borrowed from Angela out of my bag and putting it on my lips. It was really not practical as the sweet taste made me constantly want to lick my lips. Was that even healthy? I looked in the mirror a final time, feeling like a child's first attempt at a clay ashtray next to the dauntingly stunning masterpiece that was Rosalie and dared to think that perhaps her marble façade was not as cold as it appeared to be at first sight and that some day I would not set off alarms by standing too close. For now I settled for the adjustment to the proximity Edward allowed me, as he himself was an art piece in his own right.

Before I could reach the niche where we had been seated I saw Edward and Jasper talking at the far end of the room and something about it was tense. That tension seemed to increase with every step that I took in their direction, till it rolled off them like a pungent mist.

"I wouldn't know, I'll ask my professor's daughter. She seems to know more about you than I, at the moment." I heard Jasper saying and I stopped, unsure if I should approach them further or turn around. Whatever it was between them, it was personal and it didn't involve me.

"Oh you have nerve, I'll give you that!" Edward let out a humourless laugh. "The one time I got the chance to ask you how you were I got brushed off and then you proceeded to ignore me for weeks, after dropping the bomb that you're screwing my little sister!"

I couldn't make myself to move, stood rooted in my spot like some eavesdropping third wheel as Jasper launched a defence attack. Or was it an offense attack? I couldn't be sure.

"You didn't care much how or what I was doing when you packed up your life, moved out to LA, and decided I didn't fit in it anymore. So don't come home after not talking to me for like… a year and pretend that you give a flying fuck about lowly little Jasper," He spat, "It's insulting. As is your notion that the world evolves around you and how _you_ feel. Newsflash, Edward, earth does not stop spinning when you pack your bags! I don't need you to grant me your blessing in order for me to sleep at night, nor dictate _with_ whom to sleep for that matter."

My heart leapt to my throat as I watched Edward's jaw clench in accordance with his fist and for a moment I was afraid he was going to take a swing.

"Edward!" I called out.

He flicked his head around and when his dark, raging eyes locked with mine, I could only stare back. I had never seen him angry. If anything, till now I had looked at him as someone with tremendous patience and composure, but he was livid, and he either couldn't or wouldn't hide it. I wasn't breathing until Edward flexed his hand, an apology flashing through his eyes, and I sucked in a deep breath.

"What's going on?" Alice danced to my side, looking at me and then at the two fuming men with alarm on her face. I wished I could tell her but I was quite in the dark myself.

"We're leaving," Edward announced, his body still an armour of anger, but his eyes flooded with sadness.

"What? Why? What happened?" Alice grabbed his arm when he passed her, but he simply shook it off and placed a tentative hand on my waist.

"Yeah! Walk away!" Jasper yelled, "It's what you're good at!"

Edward didn't look back as we rapidly strode towards the exit, though his grip on me tightened at Jasper's words. I did, however, and I saw Jasper's face - an equal mixture of anger and sadness - as Alice pulled at his shirt demanding an answer. Emmett shot us a quizzical look as we passed him and opened his mouth, but Rosalie swatted his arm before he could fling some witty remark in the rink. Before I knew it we found ourselves in a back alley and Edward collided his foot with a wooden crate that crumpled in misery.

"Fucking bastard!" He exclaimed, and the expletive carried on his heated breath in the cold air.

I stood in the periphery, unsure of what to do, of how to soothe him. So I let him rage till he was done, almost shaking with the effort, and took notice of me.

"God, Bella." He plucked at his hair and ran his hands over his face. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean… I'm sorry you had to see that."

His approach was hesitant as if he expected me to be afraid, but strangely enough the thought simply hadn't crossed my mind. I had been too wrapped up in trying to think of something to alleviate his distress, but I just didn't know what to say to him, what to do to make him better. Eventually, I just took a chance and slung my arms around his waist, pressing myself against him. He froze in my embrace, whether startled or surprised, but eventually his shoulders slumped. Heaving a deep, pained sigh, he ran his hands up my arms to my neck, his thumbs tracing my jaw before he plunged his fingers in the hair in my nape and pulled me closer. I had him back.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he muttered another apology against my temple, his warm breath washing over my skin and making me briefly close my eyes.

"It's cold," I said. "We should go back inside…or something."

"No…" His reply was soft yet determined as he let go of me and took a step back. "Enough madness for one night. I'm taking you home."

He shrugged out of his blazer and held it up for me as I slid my arms in the sleeves, his scent and warmth enveloping me, while he called the driver.

~Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ~

Edward was silent through most of the ride to my apartment. In addition, he seemed to avoid my eyes at all cost, either embedding them in the dark leather of the driver's seat or fixating them on some unspecific point in the distance.

"Will you be okay?" I finally broke the silence, scooting closer to him and placed my hand on his back, stroking over the tense curve of his spine, while resting my chin on his shoulder.

"Me? Yeah," he sighed, plucking at his hair till I took his hand in mine. He was going to be bald by the time he hit twenty-five if he kept that up.

"I'm sorry. This was not supposed to go like this. Look at you, you're dazzling and this has to be the shortest party appearance ever. It's between him and me and you should've never witnessed it."

"Don't worry about it. Clubs are not my scene, anyway. Besides, it's not like any of this took time." I motioned my hand at myself trying to lighten the mood. "I'm naturally stunning."

"That you are," he sighed, brushing his thumb over my knuckles and sending an electric current through my being.

I took in a quivering breath and asked, "What happened between you two?"

Edward tensed at my question.

"I don't want to discuss this right now, Bella. In all honesty, I'm not sure myself," he answered eventually.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," he cried, his face twisted. "Please, my behaviour was just—"

"Stop apologising!" I begged. "It's okay! You had a fight with your friend, you didn't fillet a kitten before my eyes! Besides, one outburst deserves another, don't you think?" I reminded him of the night that I fell to pieces and _he_ had to watch.

Sooner than he could reply, the car stopped in front of my building and suddenly the evening had ended before it had even fully begun. I tucked myself deeper in his embrace.

"Are you sure you will be okay?" I asked him again, looking for something to keep him with me for a bit longer, even if it was for comfort.

"I will be okay." He nodded.

"Oh." I bit my lip. "Okay. That's good. Cause I can imagine you feel a bit … I mean it's been a rough night and I can make a cup of tea or something to… Not that tea makes you feel better. But it has antioxidants and…" Antioxidants? Really? That hatch could open now and swallow me whole. Please?

Edward watched me intently, eyebrows raised, and I felt the betraying heat creep up my cheeks. Thankfully the car was shrouded in darkness. Even though I was pretty sure the scarlet of my embarrassment shone in bright neon, anyway, just to tease me.

"Just ask me, Bella," he said.

"Ask you what?" I blinked.

"Up."

Up. Two letters. Barely a word. Yet 'up' was weighing me down. I blinked.

"I don't mean _up_!" Edward said quickly. "Just up in a totally not _up_ sort of way. You know, a 'you-live- on- the- seventh- floor' up. Distance from the ground… I like tea." He muttered the last part.

For a good minute we sat in silence like a bunch of teenagers on their very first date. This was one strange day. A trip to inferno and back. No matter what preparatory measures I took, it didn't seem enough, so why not just go with it?

"Would you like to come up for a cup of tea, Edward?"

"If you'll have me," he answered, and just like he ended up standing in the middle of my living room for the second time that day.

It was still plenty weird, but a good weird. A weird that would have made me smile, if not for his sadness. Maybe, just maybe, I could get used to this. As I filled the kettle with water, I snuck a glance at Edward, who was looking outside through the window, ostensibly lost in thought. As the kettle heated on the stove, I dug out two mugs and dug through our tea collection that seemed to be reduced to the redbush Angela loved so much and I despised. Finally, I found some remnants of the lovely blend of green tea and lemongrass.

"It seems we only have redbush and green tea with lemongrass. I hope you like one or the other," I said taking the sugar out of the cupboard as well.

Edward didn't reply, but he was there. I felt his presence behind me before he ever touched me. The air grew thinner and the familiar feeling of anxiety washed over me like a tidal wave. Butterflies dancing in my stomach. Heart throbbing in my throat. So many thoughts swirling in my head, that not one made sense. I was waiting. I didn't know for what, but I stood unmoving. Waiting.

He jolted every nerve in my body into a frenzy when he set his hands on my shoulders. I wondered if I would ever be able to take in his touch without flinching at the intensity of it, of him. And still, I waited as the sensory overload slowly ebbed away to a constant humming of the nerve endings in the background.

"I lied about coming up here, and I know that tonight of all nights I don't deserve it, but I really want…" He spoke eventually, an internal struggle either won or lost, and I couldn't make myself think it over as the rest of the sentence hung in the air like a storm on a scorching summer day. His grip was tense but gentle, as if he had trouble estimating his strength. I closed my eyes, steeling myself against impact.

"I want…" His fingers momentarily tightened around my shoulders, before relaxing instantly. "To kiss you," he finished sucking the remaining air right out of the kitchen with those few softly spoken words.

I swallowed, drawing in a shaky breath, expecting a crushing flood of panic to devour me. As the seconds ticked by, the humming intensified and warmth that had started to build in the pit of my stomach started to spread through my veins, but I was still there. I was okay. I opened my eyes when I realised that there was no internal siren, no life threatening code red, not even a more agreeable orange. There was just him and me and for the first time I knew exactly what I wanted.

"Then kiss me…"

Before I could even muster enough blood circulation to blush, he had spun me around, his hands on the rapid pulse in my neck. I felt dizzy either because he was so close, or because I wasn't breathing. A combination of both was perhaps the most likely. I was simply not prepared for what I would find in his eyes. The hunger, and the struggle to curb it, coloured his irises an ominous black and turned the lines of his face hard. That being said, it was not fear for that hunger, not anxiety for being consumed that made it hard to breathe. I was sandwiched in between the stainless steel of the counter and that of his frame and despite everything I felt safe, for as much as his grip on me was unyielding, it was every bit as much laced with vigilant gentleness. He seemed more afraid of breaking me than I was afraid of being broken.

"Kiss me." I urged him on, curling my fingers around the lapels of his blazer and couldn't help it when my eyes wandered to his lips. It took every ounce of self-control to not close that last meagre distance myself, but this time it had to be him. I wanted to show him that I wouldn't run. That I wanted this, him. God, I wanted him. If wanted him any more, I'd take the lapels right off his jacket. I sure did hang on to them for dear life.

I closed my eyes, chewing on my bottom lip to channel the restlessness and flinched when I felt him coax it back out with his thumb, while his index finger simultaneously lifted my chin. I could not decide whether to hold my breath or to hyperventilate in the five longest seconds of my life before his lips, reverent and shy, touched mine. All thought left my head, but I was funnily aware of his hair tickling my forehead, of his sweet breath on my mouth, of his fingers digging in the back of my neck, raising me up to him till I found myself standing on my tiptoes. Edward explored slowly, teetering on the edge, but never plunging in, and I teetered with him. The only difference was that my edge was that of insanity as my body surrendered to the gentle caresses and rioted for more.

"Strawberries," Edward muttered against my lips, letting his tongue trace them lazily, like a cat savouring the last drops of milk and setting me ablaze, making me alive, like I hadn't felt in so very long. I let go of his blazer and gripped the sides of his head instead, anchoring my fingers in the thick bronze mane, kissing him back with abandon.

Our mouths moulded together like water, sensual and effortless. I was adrift, coiling, surging; lost in the softness of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, the tender caress of his tongue, the most delightful improvisation of nips, licks, and strokes, till something as mundane as lack of oxygen forced us apart, out of breath, wide-eyed, shrouded by the succulent echo of current events and the shrill whistle of the kettle.

Wow.

He just – And I—

Wow.

"I second that…" Edward said hoarsely running a hand through his hair. I blinked, then flushed. Had I voiced that out loud?

"Don't be embarrassed, Bella." He nudged my chin up. "If I'd been able to string a thought together it would have been that."

Then he moved the kettle from the stove and I watched, stunned into silence, as he poured the boiling water into the mugs.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" I asked setting my mug down on the coffee table, the sweet herbal aroma swirling into the room on a constant whirl of steam.

"No." Edward smiled, taking a hold of my hand and pulling me down beside him on the sofa. I fell flush against him and held my breath as he trailed his fingers up the side of my throat, to my ear and behind it, combing through my hair. "I'd much rather watch you…"

I didn't breathe as I watched him watch me and counted the golden specks that sat in the endless greens of his eyes. They were just traces washed ashore by some river in the evergreens, but they shimmered, more so it seemed when he smiled. But now, there was an undercurrent of sadness hiding in between the pine and the myrtle. I knew I couldn't coax him out of the shadows and make him tell me what exactly had transpired between him and Jasper, what had caused his mind to wander into that forest of melancholy all alone. He would hide if he so chose, and I was not going to change his mind. Not tonight. So, I stroked his cheek instead, hoping that he could find some comfort in my touch.

I smiled when he inclined his face into my palm and placed a kiss right in the middle of it, then another one on the almost translucent skin of my inner wrist. And I was fascinated, as well as entirely consumed, by what those tiny gestures did to me, how easily my body followed his lead as he gently pushed me in the cushions of the sofa and lay down beside me.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly brushing his lips from my chin to my ear. "My head feels heavy."

I nodded, stretching out my legs alongside his and kicking off my boots under the coffee table. Edward followed suit. I didn't get the chance to be embarrassed about the hole in my pantyhose before he pulled me close for a lazy kiss, leaving me breathless, and I let my fingers roam that gorgeous thick mane.

The tea was forgotten, cooling rapidly on the coffee table; the pantyhose were forgotten, my toes curling from delight; the world was forgotten as we lay there for what seemed eternity and a split of a second all at once. In a kiss, in an embrace, or simply in silence.

I didn't know who had dozed off first, as everything seemed like a languid dream anyway, but I awoke from the sound of the wind beating icy rain against the windows. I stifled a yawn, my eyelids sticky from sleep. A glance at my watch told me that it was almost a quarter past one. An arm was my pillow, harder than I was used to, yet not necessarily uncomfortable. Another functioned as a not very thermal blanket over my waist, goose bumps strewn all over my naked arms. I craned my neck to look at Edward, sandwiched in between me and the backrest of the couch. He was fast asleep, his breathing slow and methodical, and a sense of peace traced the planes of his face, freeing it from the lines that aged him without years. His copper hair was tousled and hanging in his closed eyes, lips slightly parted, and butterflies started doing the polonaise in my stomach at the beauty that embraced me.

He'd had a rough evening and the purple blemishes under his eyes testified to a chaotic sleeping pattern, if one at all. I decided then and there that I was not going to wake him; that I was going to let him sleep for as long as sleep would take him. He deserved a few hours of rest, peace, healing. So I slowly lifted his arm from my waist, watching his face closely for any indication that he was waking up, and slid off the couch.

I padded around the apartment, dragging my feet and hitting light switches wherever they needed hitting. One by one the lights went out, gently shrouding in soothing darkness. Then I took a woollen blanket off the armrest of a chair and spread it out over his frame, contemplating my next move, or rather, whether to move in the first place. I chose the comfort and nearness of his arms. As I lifted the blanket and tried to slide back in place with as little of a hassle as possible, he stirred, inhaling deeply, rising from a deep sleep and once more I cursed my inability to be stealthy.

"What time is it?" he slurred the words into a continuous mumble that was hard to identify.

"Sleep, Edward," I said softly, flattering my head back on its human pillow and pulling his arm over my waist.

At those words he let out a sigh, the tension in his body expelling on his breath, and his grip on me tightened, pressing me closer.

And the nearness didn't scare me.

Nor did he.

I placed my hand in his and smiled, closing my eyes, letting the lullaby of the wind, the rain, his even breaths, and the quiet humming of the appliances sing me to sleep.

* * *

TBC

**A/N: Mrs. Kowalski's vocabulary explained: **

***devushka – girl **

**** piroshky - ****boiled or baked dumplings stuffed with for example meat. Sort of the Slavic version of ravioli.**

***** Bozhe moi – My God **

****** Idti – go**

**For those of you who wonder, digitus impidicus is not a figment of Emmett's imagination, nor of mine. The Romans really did flip each other off. **

**So this was it! I hoped it makes up for the long wait. I'd be delighted to hear your thoughts!**

**About a week and half ago my dear friend SunKing finally persuaded my to try out the Twitter. I've been twittering ever since. So if you want to join me, you can at twitter [dot] com / AlverdineFF.  
**

**Till next time!**


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